Her Secret His Sin
by Lynnlee22
Summary: AU Philly
1. Chapter 1

She blinked, her tears once again blurring her vision. Her hands trembled as she stared at the black and white boxes, most of them empty save the printed date in the upper corner. No one used paper calendars anymore, she thought with a sigh. Again and again she counted the days, somehow praying that this time the answer would be different, but each time, her stomach seemed to sink further. In another time, in another life, with another man, this would be a miracle—the biggest blessing of all. Now—it terrified her, but it also made one thing very clear. It had to stop. Now. She closed her eyes as she thought back to the events of the night before…

 _She sat in the car at the end of the driveway, her eyes trained on her bedroom window. The light still shone bright behind the curtains. Carl was still awake. Phyllis shifted in the seat with a deep sigh. When had she become this person? When had she resorted to trying to outwait her fiancé before going inside? It was late. It was cold. The only thing she wanted was to go inside and take a warm shower. She needed to wash this day off of her. It had been day filled with endless meetings and stubborn clients and, even though she'd intentionally stayed later at the office than she needed to, she was now more than ready to call it a day._

 _You have nothing to apologize for, she silently repeated to herself as she made her way to the front door. But she would…and she knew it._

 _"Thought you were planning to sleep out there." His curt statement caught her off guard and she jumped a bit as he stepped in front of her, blocking her path._

 _"Carl," she breathed, "I thought you'd be in bed by now."_

 _"Thought or hoped?" he sneered. "No, I was busy watching you." He reached for her bag, snatching it towards him despite the fact it was wrapped around her arm._

 _"Oww," she hissed, "What the hell?" She watched in frustration as he reached into her bag, grabbing her phone and instantly scanning her recent calls._

 _He looked up at her. "Deleted it, huh?"_

 _"Deleted what?"_

 _"The calls…I know you were talking to him."_

 _She shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about." She took a wary step back, already seeing where this was going. She could smell the liquor on his breath and she could only imagine the last few hours had been ample opportunity for him to conjure up plenty of stories of what she could have been doing. It hadn't always been this way…not in the beginning, but things were always good in the beginning she supposed._

 _About a year ago, when things had really reached a boiling point, she'd walked out for a few weeks and he'd seemingly recognized the seriousness of it all. He'd gone to counseling on his own and then they'd together. He'd signed up for anger management and quit drinking. Since then, things had been better—certainly less volatile and then—she found the bottle…the first one._

 _"Don't play dumb with me!" She felt his hand grip her wrist and she jerked away from his grasp._

 _"You're drunk," she spat. "I can't talk to you when you get this like this."_

 _He grabbed her shoulders, pulling her towards him. "Well that's just too bad for you." The liquor was heavy on his breath as he loomed over her. "I know you were out there talking to him…planning your next little rendezvous. You didn't get your fill in tonight?"_

 _"Carl—you're hurting me. She stepped back again, mindful of the furniture in the room. These were the things you learned after living through this for so long. "I was working. I had meetings that's all."_

 _"You know how much it pisses me off when you lie to me!" He screamed, pushing her hard, her body taking the brunt of the blow in her ribcage._

 _She went limp, allowing her body to fall onto the sofa. It was best not to engage him when it got like this. She stayed there, completely silent—she wasn't sure how long. After a while, she could hear his steps as he walked away. Later, she walked upstairs and crawled into bed. She cringed as she felt his arms wrap around her, his breath warm on her face as he whispered an apology in her ear. She didn't respond. She simply closed her eyes and prayed sleep would come quickly tonight._

But it wasn't about her anymore. Her pride came second to this. She was a mother first.

She took a look in the mirror as she passed by the dresser, carefully ensuring no bruises were visible. Carl's voice was barely audible from his office down the hall and she knew he'd be taking business calls all morning. That would give her time, time to get answers, and time to make a plan.

* * *

Phyllis leaned back in the iron chair as she took a slow sip from the mug.

"Well that's different."

She jumped, Billy's hand on her shoulder startling her.

He walked around to the other side of the table. "Sorry," he whispered, his eyes immediately searching hers, "Didn't mean to startle you…just not used to seeing you with anything but your usual here." He gestured towards her mug of herbal tea. "What's got you changing things up?"

"Oh—just wanted something different, that's all." Her mind flashed to the bag beside her, and she leaned over quickly to make sure the contents weren't visible. Her still tender ribs ached as she moved and she couldn't conceal the pain that flashed across her face. She drew in a quick breath as she sat up slowly.

"Hey," he reached across the table, his hand warm as it rested on hers. "You okay? You look like you're hurting."

"I'm fine..really." Damn him and his instincts. Billy had always been able to pick up on her emotions. She couldn't hide from him.

"No, I've seen you fine," he grinned, "and this isn't it." His thumb stroked her fingers. "So, just tell me what's going on."

"Billy," she sighed, "Honestly, it's not anything. There's no conspiracy here…just a cramp in my side…that's all." She could see the doubt in his eyes and she knew he wasn't buying this for a second. If she didn't get out of here soon, he'd be pressing her further. "Actually, I have to go," she muttered, "I can't stay…"

Billy nodded, standing up and walking over to her side. "At least let me get this for you." He leaned down, moving to pick up her bag.

"No, Billy—don't!" She lunged, wincing and grabbing her side as she jerked the bag away from him. She pulled her body up straight again, forcing a smile. "You don't have to take care of me all the time. I'm okay." Her eyes locked with his for a moment and she saw the questions there. All she'd have to do was say the word and it would all be over. He'd take care of her and she'd never have to worry about Carl again, but this wasn't Billy's fight. She got into this and she should be the one to get herself out.

"I'll see you," she whispered, a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Phyllis." He reached around her, carefully grabbing her wrist and pulling her gently towards him. He stepped in close, letting his head fall to her ear.

She closed her eyes as she remembered Carl whispering in her ear in much the same way the night before—how different the feelings were.

"I know you," he whispered, "and I know when you're lying to me. You aren't fine. Something's going on and for whatever reason you don't want to tell me, but when you're ready, I'll be here." He held her close to him for another moment, feeling her shaky breathing. He felt her nod slowly before letting her go.

Billy watched her walk from the building as he slowly returned to the table. "It's those damn shoes," he whispered out loud, "Who the hell could walk in shoes like that and not hurt…." He nodded as he took a seat. "It's gotta be the shoes." Though, the more he said it, the more the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach seemed to grow.

* * *

She slowly walked into the house, each step bringing more tension into her body. "Carl?" she called, preferring to know where he was rather than experience the element of surprise again. She felt relieved when she received no answer. Phyllis stepped into the living room where she saw the slip of paper sitting on the coffee table.

 _Have a meeting. Be back soon._

 _Would be nice if you'd tell me the same—common courtesy. Try it._

 _Carl_

Normally she'd be angry, but today she couldn't be anything but relieved. Though she had no idea how long he'd been gone, or when he'd return, she knew she had to work fast. She moved towards the bedroom, stepping into the bathroom quickly and pulling the paper bag out of her purse. In two minutes she'd know for sure, though in her heart, she already knew—and in really didn't matter. She had to leave. This wasn't a life, not for her, and certainly not for a child.

Quickly, she threw some clothes in a bag. Now wasn't the time to worry about being particular. She needed to be ready. She needed to get out. If she could do it before he got back, that was much better. Her eyes drifted to the clock on the wall and she knew it was time. Her feet felt heavy as she walked towards the bathroom, her hands resting on the countertop. She took a breath before she lifted the stick, her mind already resigned to the results she knew she'd find. Tears streamed down her face as she saw the double line and she knew her choice was made. Quickly, she dropped the test into the bin and headed back towards the bedroom. As she pulled the clothes from the bottom drawer, she heard the sound of Carl's car in the driveway.

Her body moved towards the closet, her heart sinking as she realized her worst night might be still to come. She knew it was there. Carl cleaned it in front of her often, explaining the intricacies of the Smith and Wesson revolver to her as he did. It was as if he was threatening her indirectly. She'd never wanted to touch it, but, as she held it in her hands, surprised at how amazingly light it was, she felt the power shift.

This was ending—tonight—one way or the other.


	2. Chapter 2

Phyllis gripped the gun tighter in her hand as she shoved into the bag and quickly pulled the zipper closed. She closed the closet door and quickly looking around the room. Nothing looked particularly out of order. Picking up the bag, she stepped quickly towards the door, hurrying down the steps and walking over to the coat closet in the living room. She glanced over her shoulder, thankful that Carl hadn't made it inside the house yet. She opened the door, shoving the bag inside and quietly closing the door behind her. Taking a deep breath, she waited for him to enter, the sick feeling in her gut that always appeared in his presence seeming especially vivid today.

"Look whose here." He didn't bother to try his displeasure. "I take it you got my note….the one I had the decency to leave. More than I could say for you."

She sighed, not wanting to incite him today of all days. "Yes, I did. I'm sorry. I should have told you I was going out. I wasn't thinking. It was thoughtless of me."

Carl turned to look at her, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Right."

"You know, maybe we could do something special, you know? To kind of make up for it…since we really haven't been able to spend a lot of time together recently.." She stepped closer to him, trying to appear excited at the prospect of being in his presence. The quicker she could get him out of this house, the quicker she could leave it forever.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked, his hands on her immediately.

She stilled at his touch, but forced a smile. "Maybe you could run out and get us some dinner from that little French restaurant we like so much. I could light a few candles, put on some music…you know, make it special."

His head tilted slightly at the thought. "Why don't we just go out, save the special for later—after we get home?"

"I'm not really in the mood to go out tonight…" She watched his face intently, searching for any sign that he doubted her intentions. He started up the stairs and she followed him closely.

Her breath stilled as he walked into the bedroom, slipping off his suit coat as he headed into the bathroom. "Come on sweetie," he whined, glancing back at her in the mirror. "It'll be nice. You can get all dressed up. We haven't done that in ages."

"I'm just really not…" Her voice failed her as she saw it out of the corner of her eye. Instantly she turned her eyes back to him, trying to pretend as if nothing had happened, but she could tell he'd seen. His eyes followed her gaze and within moments her worst fears were coming true.

"What the hell is this?" He held the test in his hand, his jaw tight, his hand trembling as he stared at her.

"Carl," she breathed, "If you'll just let me explain…"

"You mean let you lie to me some more? Is that what you want me to do?" He threw the test on the ground, his hands pounding on the hard, granite countertop on either side of her. He leaned close to her, his face mere inches from hers. "You're still gonna deny it aren't you?"

"Deny what?" she managed, her voice barely audible.

She could see his forearms trembling, the rage welling up inside him. He jerked his hands away from the counter and she flinched, half expecting one to come back against her. He whirled around, storming out of the room and down the stairs. For a moment she simply stood there, her hands shaking, feeling as if she might simply crumple to the floor. Her mind vacillated between being relieved he was gone and being terrified about what he was doing. With Carl, ignorance was never bliss.

Phyllis headed down the stairs, quietly walking into the living room where she found him pouring a drink.

His voice was eerily calm as he began to speak to her. "Over and over again I've asked you to tell me the truth," he muttered, his back to her, his hand gripping his glass, "And over and over again you've lied to me." Slowly he turned, his eyes shining at her. "You swore to me there wasn't anyone else…promised me I was seeing things that didn't exist…accused me of being paranoid? Well, what now? Am I still paranoid?" He took steps towards her as his voice raised more and more. "When I brought up having a kid, you said you didn't want that—said you were done having kids—said you were…." He paused, bringing the glass against his head as he appeared to think back, trying to get her words just right, "Oh…that you were done with that phase of your life…, right? Isn't that what you said to me?"

She nodded.

"And you were damn careful…always so damn careful…because God forbid something should happen…It would be the end of the damn world!" He was screaming now as he waved his hands maniacally, the scotch sloshing from his glass and onto the wood floor.

He was doing what he always did, but literally and figuratively. He was backing her into a corner. With every step he took towards her, she took a step back, until she'd be trapped, with nowhere to turn—nowhere to run.

"I didn't plan this," she whispered.

"Right," he sneered. "So is that why you wanted me gone tonight? You wanted to go tell your lover the good news? Huh?"

"Carl," she whispered, "It's not…"

"Or maybe….Was he coming here?" He took the final step, pinning her against the closet door now, his hand gripping her chin between his fingers, squeezing her so hard she was certain there would be marks. "Do you bring that bastard to my house?!"

"Carl, please…"

He released her, stepping back a bit as he stared at her. "That's alright," he sighed, seemingly calmer now. "Let him come. It'll be good for us to meet. It's time, but when he shows up, I've got a little present for him."

Phyllis watched in horror as Carl headed back up the stairs. She didn't need to follow to know exactly where he was going. Her eyes closed in abject terror as she listened to items being thrown from the closet and she knew he'd be down wanting answers. She opened the closet, unzipping the bag and grabbing the gun. As she readied it in her hands, she turned towards the staircase. Waiting.

* * *

Billy slammed the laptop shut. He couldn't concentrate. All evening the only thing he'd been thinking about was Phyllis. The more he tried to convince himself that she was fine, the more he became more certain that she was anything but. He'd picked up the phone at least ten times, but what would he say. With Phyllis there was a fine line between being concerned and being overbearing—sometimes he wasn't certain she even knew where it was. At the moment, the only thing he felt sure of was that something wasn't right. He glanced over at the clock on the mantle. It was late and he clearly wasn't going to make any progress tonight. He stood up, placing the laptop on dock to charge and heading up to bed. He'd told her to call him when she was ready—and he hoped like hell that she'd be ready soon.

* * *

She heard his footsteps as he bounded down the stairs. He stopped short.

"What the…"

"Carl," she began, the gun suddenly feeling much heavier in her hand. "I don't want to do this."

"Then don't," he whispered. "Don't do anything crazy. You have no idea what you're doing with that thing. Give it to me before you get hurt."

"You're the one that's hurting me," she breathed, taking a step back as he approached. "And it's going to stop. It's going to stop right now. I'm not living like this anymore."

"Phyllis—I want you to give me the gun. You don't even know how to use it. You could end up shooting yourself. Think about that. Think about the baby. How would you feel if you ended up hurting that baby, huh?"

"Don't you pretending to give a damn about me or this baby?" Tears streamed down her cheeks as she screamed at him.

"See, that's what I'm talking about…you're hysterical. You see how you get? You see how volatile you get? You need me to keep things balanced around here. I'm just trying to help you." Carl walked towards her, his arms outstretched.

"Don't," she warned…"Don't come near me…I mean it…Don't you touch me."

"Alright," he lifted his hands, "You know what…I'm just gonna step right over here and I'm gonna call someone to come help you. You shouldn't be this upset. It's not good for you." He moved towards the phone.

"No!" She wasn't thinking, the images flashing too fast in her mind and she rushed towards him as she grabbed for the phone. Carl reached for the gun, slamming her hard against the back of the couch but suddenly seemed to fly backwards, his shoe slipping on the scotch he'd spilled earlier.

Phyllis stood, staring at him as he lay there on his back, his eyes staring up at her.

"You don't want to do this," he whispered, repeating her words from earlier.

"I want this to end," she said quietly, and I think this is the only way to do it. She closed her eyes as she pulled the trigger.

"Carl?" She held the gun tight in her hands, still unwilling to put it down. Hesitantly, she dropped it to one side as she leaned over him, her shirt resting on the profusely bleeding wound in his side. "Carl?" she managed again. Her entire body trembled as she looked down at her hands, at the spatters of blood that seemed to decorate them, at her shirt that was now soaked in her fiance's blood. "Oh my God," she breathed. "What did I do….What the hell did I do?"

* * *

He hadn't been sleeping, the ringing of the phone almost a relief and he closed his eyes in a silent prayer as her name flashed across the screen. "Phyllis?"

Silence.

Billy threw the covers aside, standing up, immediately grabbing his clothes. "Phyllis," he repeated, louder this time, his voice more insistent. "Phyllis…I need you to say something, sweetie!"

"Billy," she managed, her hand trembling furiously as she held the phone to her ear. She sat hunched in a corner at the far side of the room, her knees pulled up to her chest, one hand holding the phone, the other still clenched tight around the gun. "Billy."

Terror ran through him. He'd heard her call his name many times, but never quite like this. "I'm on my way, Phyllis okay? You hold on. I'm gonna talk to you. Alright?"

He threw himself in the car, switching on the ignition and throwing the car in reverse.

The drive seemed endless even though he paid no mind to the speed limits. Over and over he called her name, but received no response. The only way he knew she was still on the line was the sound of her shaky breath. As he pulled into the driveway, he leapt out of the car, pausing only long enough to turn off the ignition and put it in park. The door was unlocked, and he stepped inside, not bothering to knock.

"Phyllis," he called out, receiving no answer. A few more tentative steps, and his eyes fell on her. He immediately hit his knees beside her, his hands cupping her face. Her pale skin terrified him and as he looked down her body, his breath caught. "My God," he breathed, "Phyllis what happened? Is this your blood?"

Grabbing at her shirt, he pulled it, looking for the cause of the blood, his eyes falling on the bruises on her ribs. "Phyllis," he whispered.

She stared at him, the eyes he'd looked into so many times now so filled with fear. He reached for the gun and nodded slowly as she allowed it to slip from her hand, willing to take his hand instead.

"I had to," she whispered. "I had to."


	3. Chapter 3

He had so many questions, but at the moment, only one really seemed to matter. His heart broke as he stared at the bruises on her side, their deep purple hue indicating a recent injury. "Tell me you're okay," he whispered, his hand gently brushing against her face. She flinched a bit at his touch and he closed his eyes, realizing the absurdity of the statement. Of course she wasn't okay—she was sitting in a corner, bruised, trembling, and terrified, her body covered in blood that wasn't her own, a gun resting beside her...which begged the question…

"Phyllis…where's Carl?"

The mention of his name caused her face to change instantly. She blinked, her eyes widening with fear as her trembling lips struggled to form the words. "I didn't.." She stammered, her breath catching in her throat as she seemed to relive the moments. Slowly her eyes met his. "I…"

"Okay…It's okay. Just tell me where he is?" Billy watched in horror as she slowly lifted her hand and pointed to an area on the other side of the sofa. He turned, glancing back at her. "Over there?"

"Billy." Her hand gripped his arm as he moved to stand, her eyes terrified as they stared up into his, "I think I killed him."

The magnitude of the situation seemed to slowly set in and she began to unspool in front of his eyes. The wordless fear he'd experienced when he first walked in was giving way to frenzied mania and he scrambled to gently wrap an arm around her waist as she quickly stood to her feet. "We have to call for help," she pleaded, pacing around the room nervously. "We have to call someone."

"Wait." He pulled her closer to him, her body still trembling with pure adrenaline. "Let me see him."

A wave of disgust rushed over him as he saw his body lying on the floor. The wound wasn't as impressive as the pool of blood that now surrounded him. Billy knelt down, swallowing hard as he managed a cursory touch to the side of his neck.

"Billy," Phyllis protested, "We have to call for help."

He stood up, walking over to her, his hands now resting on her shoulders. "You listen to me. He doesn't deserve help. This is exactly what this bastard deserves. This is too good for him probably. If I'd known…" He stopped himself then. It wasn't the time to think about what he would have done. Right now Phyllis was what mattered. "What he did to you…what he was doing…"

She opened her mouth to speak and for a moment he thought she might deny it.

"I saw the bruises," he said softly. He pointed to the bag. "You were leaving him?"

She nodded. "I had to…"

"Why now?" She looked away immediately and he faltered. "I'm glad you were leaving. You should…I just don't understand what made you leave now. I'm guessing this has been happening for a while. I've sensed something was off. I don't know why I didn't push more. I should have asked more questions. I should have known there was something more going on."

"You couldn't have," she whispered, "I never would have told you. Billy," she said, her voice a little stronger, "There's nothing you could have done. This was the way it was going to end…this was the only way it could."

He shook his head. "What do you mean?"

Tears stung at her eyes as she thought about all the reasons that tonight had happened. It had been a culmination of compromises that she never should have made, but the final straw had been the child that she knew she had to protect above all else. "Every time it happened, I'd promise myself that there wouldn't be a next time, but today—I had to mean it because it isn't just about me anymore. I'm pregnant," she said softly, "And I couldn't do it anymore."

"Well," he whispered, taking her hand in his, "One thing's for sure. We've got to get you out of here."

She hesitated as he gently pulled her hand. "What?" he asked, looking back at her.

Phyllis stared at the body. "We just leave him here like this? I mean just leave him?" Tears streamed down her face as she looked into his eyes.

"Hey," he whispered, pulling her body close to him. "Listen to me—if you'd given him the chance, he could have and probably would have killed you and if you'd give me the chance….well, he wouldn't have had a death this easy. Don't you feel guilty about this—you did what you had to do. You protected yourself and your baby and now you're gonna let me help you."

"This isn't your fight, Billy. You shouldn't have to get all wrapped up in my mess again. I always do this—I always drag you into my drama."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," he said softly. "Is there anything else you need? I'll get your bag."

She nodded. "I'll go upstairs and grab my purse."

He watched her as she walked up the stairs, waiting until she'd disappeared out of sight before bending down and picking up the gun. He carefully placed his hands on it, making certain to press his fingers onto the trigger and grips. Carefully he allowed it to fall back to the floor. Slowly, he strolled over to where Carl still lay, motionless and bleeding. He stared at him for a moment, saying nothing, the rage that rested inside of him making him feel sick.

"If I had my way," he whispered, "They'd find pieces of you." He stopped as he heard Phyllis' soft footsteps on the stairs.

"You ready?"

She nodded, her eyes still slightly wary.

"It's all going to be okay," he repeated. "I promise you. I'll take care of you. You believe me don't you?"

It was a simple question, but the answer was far from simple anymore. "I'm trying," she managed, her voice still shaky, "It's just hard to believe in much of anything anymore."

Her honesty sometimes stunned him. How people could see her as cold and heartless would forever be a mystery to him. She was fierce but intensely vulnerable, a study in contrasts, fire and ice, a formidable adversary, but easily wounded. Billy loaded the bag into the car, waiting until she settled into the passenger seat before responding. "Wait," he said, touching a hand to her cheek, and gently moving her face towards his, "About what you said earlier, about it being hard to believe in things now"

She stared at him with waiting eyes.

"I don't know how and I don't know how long it takes, but I swear to you that I'm going to do everything in my power to fix that. And if there's nothing else in this world that you believe, you can believe that I'll take care of you."

He watched as she nodded and slowly leaned her head against the headrest. With a deep breath, he started the car and drove out the driveway.

As the headlights streaked past the living room window, Carl slowly opened his eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

He glanced over at her, the glow of the streetlights casting just enough light on her face for him to see her. Her eyes were closed and the slow rise and fall of her chest indicated she was finally sleeping. They'd been driving for a few hours now. He'd stopped on for a moment, and only long enough to run into his house, grab a few clothes and toiletries for himself and throw them in a bag. Every moment they spent in Genoa City was a moment someone could discover Carl's body and he couldn't take the chance of that happening.

They needed to get lost—they needed to go to a place that was disconnected—someplace that didn't focus so much on the news and the press, somewhere small and rural. He slowed the car as they to a stoplight, the quick movement of her head catching his eye.

"No," she breathed, her eyes still closed tight. "No," she repeated, her face now tightening. With a sharp intake of breath, her eyes flew open, her chest now heaving for air. She clawed at the seatbelt as she gasped for air.

Throwing the car into park, he turned towards her, his hand gently touching her face. "Phyllis," he whispered, watching closely as her eyes softened a bit, her face calming, her hands slowly sliding down into her lap. "It's okay. You're okay. It was just a dream."

Her eyes fluttered closed and when they opened again, tears streamed out of them. "It's not though, Billy." She looked down at her hands, the specks of blood now dried onto her skin. "Do you see this? Do you see it? I killed someone. I killed a man….that doesn't just go away. The police are going to find him and they're going to figure it out and…." She turned towards him again, the look in her eyes the same frenzied mania he'd seen earlier. "Someone with my record, with everything I've done, they'll send me to prison for life….I'll have this baby in prison…"

"Phyllis," he began.

"No," she said, quickly, "No..No..No…You can't do this, Billy. I can't let you do this. You can't get mixed up in something like this. You have too much to lose. You have your kids and your job and your family and you're out here and they're gonna…they're gonna…" She gasped for air as she clawed at her chest.

"Hey! Hey! You've got to stop this. You hear me? It's not good for you. It's not good for the baby and it's not doing a whole hell of a lot for me either." He forced a smile as he looked at her, his hand now brushing against her face. "I don't have all the answers," he admitted, "I'm not going to sit here and lie to you—pretend I do, but I can promise you that I'm gonna get you somewhere safe tonight. For right now, what I need you to do is lean back, relax, and try to get some sleep."

"But, Billy…"

His eyes looked deep into hers. "For me? Please?"

She nodded slowly, gently laying the sleep back and closing her eyes.

* * *

"911 What's your emergency?"

He gripped his side, the searing pain making it hard to breathe, let alone speak.

"Is anyone there?" the dispatcher repeated, immediately beginning to search for the address with the location assistance.

"I need help," Carl whispered, "I've been shot…please hurry…" He felt the phone slip from his grip and he allowed his body to slump back against the floor. He could feel the blood draining from his body as if life was literally being siphoned out of him. If someone didn't get here soon, it would be too late.

* * *

"Phyllis?" Billy gently touched her shoulder. "Phyllis?"

Her eyes fluttered open slowly. "Billy," she said softly.

He nodded, waiting a moment as she glanced around, taking in the surroundings.

"Where are we?" she asked.

He smiled, "Well, we're in the middle of pretty much nowhere which is exactly the point. This place is certainly not a suite at the club, but it's off the beaten path and it looks clean enough. Most importantly there aren't any cameras which means we don't have to worry about that. That's the room right there. Let's go ahead and get you inside and I'll bring the rest of the stuff in."

Phyllis nodded , happy to let him help her inside. He pulled the key out of his pocket.

"Wow, a real key," she whispered.

"I told you….it's like we're living in the past." His eyes fell on hers as he smiled gently at her.

"It's crazy," she muttered, as she stepped into the room.

"What is?" He walked in behind her, walking over to the bathroom and looking inside to make sure everything was okay. He shrugged—nothing fancy, but it would do.

"That you could actually make me smile on a night like this."

"Hold that thought," he said quietly. "Let me go get the rest of the stuff."

Phyllis sat down on the end of the bed as she watched him rush out to the car, gather their bags, and head back to the door. He locked the door behind him as he placed the bags on the other bed and placed a white paper bag on the table.

"You were asleep, but I drove through a drive-thru," he sighed. "Sadly, there's not a lot in the way of cuisine around here, so you can choose from a burger and fries or a cheeseburger and curly fries," he grinned.

"I'm really not hun…" She stopped speaking as she saw the look on his face. "You're not gonna let me off that easy, are you?"

"Burger," she sighed, "and curly fries."

* * *

"Watch his lines," the paramedic growled as they lifted the stretcher up to load Carl into the back of the ambulance. "

"You think he's gonna make it?" a police officer asked one of the EMTs that stood beside the scene.

"I think so. He's lucky we got here as quickly as we did and he's even luckier that whoever shot him didn't have great aim. A little higher and you've got yourself bullet way too close to the heart. As it stands, he might be looking at something with the kidney, possibly lung, but if there's not infection, he should pull through."

The officer nodded. "That's good, Chief Williams wants us to ask him a couple questions. Can we get a few minutes with him before you take him in?"

"I'm afraid not. He's not critical, but he's far from stable. He's still got a bullet in him and until we get the all clear from the doctors, he's ours. You'll have to take that up with the staff at the hospital. Now, if you'll excuse me, we need to get this patient ready to transport."

* * *

"You okay in there?" Billy stood outside the bathroom door, waiting on her to change. "Phyllis?"

He heard nothing. Panic began to set in as he listened for a whisper, a noise, anything to convince him that she hadn't fainted, fallen, or otherwise injured herself. "Phyllis, I'm coming in," he said.

He opened the door, his heart breaking as he saw her. She'd changed but stood, staring at herself in the mirror as she ran her hands under the water in the sink. She blood that dried beneath her nails stubborn to remove.

"Let me," he said softly, as he took her hands in his and softly rubbed the stains away. He warmed the water, gently watching as the flecks of blood faded away. When he'd finished, he handed her a towel and helped her dry her hands. His own hands now moving to her face where he brushed away the tears that fell. "It's okay," he whispered. "It'll be okay."

Gathering up her body clothes, he placed them in the takeout bag. "On the way here, I saw a dumpster. It looked pretty empty. In the morning, when I go out to get some breakfast, I'll throw these in there. They'll be on the bottom and everything will get thrown in on top. Nobody should notice anything."

Phyllis nodded as she slowly walked with him out of the bathroom.

"You ready to try and get some sleep?" he asked.

Her eyes flashed with fear as she looked up with him. "Do you…I mean…If you don't mind….Do you think maybe you could stay my room with me, just until I fall asleep?"

"Your room?" he asked, smiling gently at her, "I'm not leaving you. I promised you that you'd be safe here and I'm gonna stay right here by your side all night and all day to make sure I make good on that promise."

She was in his arms before he realized it, her body simply holding onto his for dear life. He needed nothing, expected nothing really. He would have done anything to protect her and keep her safe—even if she hadn't wanted him to, but this simple expression of gratitude, of trust—it meant everything.


	5. Chapter 5

"Mr. Stevenson…" Carl winced as the bright light shone directly into his eyes. He groaned a bit before responding.

"Yes?"

The doctor nodded over his shoulder at the nurse who stepped forward and pushed up the pillows behind him. "Mr. Stevenson, I'm Dr. Rayburn. Do you know where you are?"

Carl inhaled slowly, the breath sending a searing pain through his side. His hand reflexively went to the source of the pain, immediately feeling the bandage and the memories of the night began to flood back to the forefront. He looked back up at the doctor. "Hospital," he managed, his voice scratchy. "Could I get some.." He gestured over the small plastic pitcher that sat on the table beside him.

Stitch nodded at the nurse who poured a small cup of water and handed it to Carl. Carl took a slow sip, using the time to gather his thoughts. So much had happened tonight and, even though he felt reasonably certain he had an understanding of the most recent events, he still had to make sure he knew what he needed to do.

"Mr. Stevenson," Stich said, sensing a disconnect in their conversation.

Carl's eyes shot back up to meet his. "Yeah," he said, his voice stronger now. "Sorry…"

"That's alright…Do you remember why you're here?"

"I think that's a question we'd all like to hear the answer to."

"Chief Williams," Stitch sighed as he walked over to the door, stepping in front of him and walking him back out the door. "I thought we had an understanding. He glanced back over his shoulder, locking eyes with the nurse before closing the door behind him.

Paul let out an exasperated sigh. "Stitch, I know what you said, but the longer we wait to talk to him, the more time we lose that we could be spending investigating whatever happened tonight. The first few hours of any investigation are the most critical. We need to talk to him."

"And you will…just as soon as I'm confident he's stable enough to stand up to the questioning. Trust me, the last thing you need is to go in there and send him into some kind of an episode. That's not the kind of publicity you want or need, not for this case, and certainly not for the GCPD."

"Excuse me, Dr. Rayburn?" The nurse appeared at the door, opening it hesitantly.

"Yes?" Stitch said, turning towards her.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Stevenson is getting very upset. He wants to speak to his fiance and I'm not sure what I should tell him."

Paul and Stitch exchanged looks.

"Just a few minutes, Stitch…Please. I promise I'll be brief and if he gives me any reason to think he's not up for it, I'll stop immediately. You have my word."

"Fine," Stitch relented, stepping away from the door and watching as Paul and another detective stepped inside.

* * *

Billy stepped into the hotel room, surprised not to see her sitting at the small dining table. The television was on, but the sound was muted. "Phyllis," he said, stepping further into the room and closing the door softly behind him. He locked the door and placed the bag of food on the table. His eyes fell on the closed bathroom door. "Phyllis" he repeated, his face now pressed against the door.

Phyllis lifted her head, her hands body still trembling despite how hard tightly she pulled her legs against her chest. "Billy?" her voice shook as she struggled to stand, her legs feeling unsteady as she made her way to the door. She opened the door, relief flooding her body as she saw him standing there.

One look at her and he could tell something had happened. Tears streamed down her face and the color that had finally returned to her face this morning was now drained away again. He pulled her into his arms, his hands rubbing soft circles on her back. "Hey," he whispered, "Easy…what happened?" He walked slowly with her back into the room, allowing her to set the pace, stopping only when she did, to sit down on the edge of the bed. Billy sat down beside her, his hands now holding hers.

"You were gone so long," she whispered, realizing as she heard the words how ridiculous she sounded. She looked away, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. I had to take the clothes to the garbage bin. I thought I told you that. Didn't I tell you I was doing that?" He felt horrible, having worried her. All he wanted was to make her feel safe and he'd frightened her.

"No, you did. You told me. I just…I don't know. Being alone I feel so…." Another wave of shame enveloped her. She hated feeling this way, so needy and broken. "Jesus," she hissed, "I'm afraid to be alone."

His heart broke to hear the words. He could only imagine how she felt having to say them. Those were the last words someone like Phyllis wanted to say—and the truth in them was even harder. "It won't always be like this," he said softly, stroking her hands. His head dipped a bit, his gaze searching for hers. His eyes found their intended target, the strength of their connection still there—even in the midst of everything that had happened, that hadn't changed. "I promise you. It will get better."

* * *

"Chief Williams?" Carl's eyes widened as Paul and a detective entered the hospital room.

"Well, Mr. Stevenson. It's good to see your memory's in tact," Paul said cheerfully. "The doctors tell us you're quite the lucky man."

"So they tell me," Carl said with a slight smile. He placed his hand over the gunshot wound. "No major damage."

"Good to hear," Paul nodded. "We just want to ask you a few questions."

"Of course, but if you don't mind, I'd really like to speak to Phyllis first. I just want to make sure she's okay. I haven't seen her since this all happened. Is she in the waiting room?"

Paul watched the young detective carefully, pleased by his lack of reaction. That was always one of the hardest things to teach—the lack of emotion. It was natural human instinct to react to questions. Your eyes and face often changed even if you weren't aware of it, but this young man had promise. He stayed completely calm.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stevenson. I don't know where your fiancé is. I haven't seen her this evening. Now, if you don't mind, we really do need to ask you these questions."

Carl nodded. Paul stepped aside, allowing the young detective to step in.

"Mr. Stevenson, can you tell us what you remember about tonight?"

Carl sighed, "Uh…it was a normal day really. I worked from home some this morning, went out for a meeting, came home. Phyllis and I discussed going out to get some dinner. I went upstairs to get changed." He paused, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to recall something distant. "The next thing I remember was struggling to get to the phone and calling for help."

The detective jotted notes in his small notebook.

Paul chimed in. "So, you don't remember anything about the actual shooting. No noises, no voices, no flashes…nothing."

There was a long silence as Carl sat, thinking. Paul studied his face, as he glanced over at the detective.

"I'm sorry," Carl finally replied. "It's all a blank."

Paul nodded.

"I'm really sorry," Carl said again, "but I might be a lot more focused if someone could tell me where my fiancé is. I need to know that Phyllis is alright." He looked over at the detective standing on the other side of the bed. "Could someone go have her paged or something?"

Paul held up his hand to stop the movement of the detective. "That won't be necessary." He turned his attention back to Carl. "Actually, Mr. Stevenson. I'd like to ask you a few questions about your fiancé as well."

"About Phyllis?" Concern seemed to sweep his face. "Is she alright?"

"How were things with you and Phyllis leading up to the shooting? Were there any issues in your relationship?"

Paul watched with interest as Carl's eyes flashed with surprise. "No," he said seemingly earnest. "In fact, we were in a great place." He hesitated for a moment before speaking again. "Actually, we hadn't really told anyone yet, but we'd just found out that we were expecting. Things were good—really good."

Paul nodded. "So there hadn't been any issues?"

"No of course not?" Carl glanced between the two men again. "Alright," he snapped, his patience wearing thin, "I'm getting a little tired of this. You're asking me all these questions—wanting all these answers from me and yet no one wants to give me any answers. Someone needs to tell me where Phyllis is! Where is Phyllis?"

"I'm afraid we don't know," Paul admitted, stepping a little closer to the bed. "When the officers arrived to your house tonight, the bedroom appeared to be ransacked and there was no sign of Phyllis. Some of her things appeared to be missing and there was some sign of a struggle. It's possible Phyllis could be in danger."

* * *

"What are you looking at?" Phyllis asked, when she glanced up to find Billy's eyes trained on her.

He smiled. "Sorry. I just…I'm impressed that I didn't have to twist your arm this morning." He pointed at the almost empty Styrofoam container in front of her. "I never knew you liked pancakes so much."

"It's not so much the pancakes," she admitted. "It's more the syrup."

Billy nodded. "Yeah, well, I think you have somehow managed to get some on your neck," he grinned, leaning across the table with a napkin. He stopped as he brought the napkin closer, his eyes falling on the faded green marks that were now visible in the sunlight.

"What?" she said, taking the napkin and wiping at the syrup. She couldn't miss his instant change in attitude. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said quickly, forcing the smile again. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel self conscious, but it killed him to see these marks on her. It just reminded him of the hell she must have been going through. In some ways he thought it best that he not know the details and yet in others he knew he needed to know, to try and understand. He forced his eyes to raise and meet hers. "You've got some marks on your neck," he said softly.

She looked away from him, dropping the fork and moving to stand.

"Phyllis," he said quickly, grabbing for her hand. "Please, don't. I want you to be able to talk to me. I know it must be…" He stopped… "No, you know what…I don't know. I have no idea…and that's just it. If you don't tell me, I'll never know. I'll never even be able to imagine. I want to help you….even if that means just sitting here and listening."

Most people just talked. They told you they cared and they claimed to want to know what was bothering you, but with Billy it wasn't different. It always had been. Every time she'd been at her bottom, he'd pulled her back up. When she'd wanted to quit, he refused to let her and when she'd been too discouraged to fight on her own, he'd fought for her until she'd been able to find her own strength. If there was anybody in the world she'd trust with this, it was him.

"I just don't want…." She looked at him, her eyes full of hesitation.

"You don't' want to what?" He sighed, squeezing her hands in his. "Just talk to me."

She closed her eyes, not able to look into his as she said the words. "I just don't want you to think less of me."

He leaned back a bit, the words actually shocking him as they fell from her lips. "Think less of you," he repeated, "I would never think less of you." He kept one hand firmly clasp around hers while moving one to wipe the warm tears that had begun their familiar trail down her face. "You listen to me—you made it out," he whispered. "That's nothing to be ashamed of. Don't you ever be ashamed of what happened."

She managed a weak nod. "He wasn't always like that," she said quietly, gratefully leaning into Billy's embrace as he moved to sit beside her on the edge of the bed. "At the beginning things were really good."

He didn't interrupt her, simply letting her talk. Occasionally, he'd nod, encouraging her to continue.

"He was also a bit controlling, never really liked me to socialize a lot, but I just thought that was his nature…then the drinking started and he just got worse. The first time it happened…" Her mind flashed back instantly and she shook her head to banish the memory. She glanced over at Billy, who simply looked at her, his eyes pained. "I told him if he ever touched me again, I'd leave him…and he didn't…not for a long time."

"At one point, he even went to counseling. He did some on his own, anger management, and we did couples counseling. He quit drinking and things really calmed down for a good while. I actually thought things were going to be okay." She laughed a little. "How stupid was I?"

"You weren't stupid," Billy whispered. "You wanted to believe that things would be okay. That's not stupid. You didn't deserve this."

"I don't know," she said quietly. "I let it happen. I could have walked away."

"You did."

"Way too late," she sighed. Phyllis looked at him. She knew him far too well and there was something more…something in his eyes that told her he had another question to ask. "What?"

Billy blinked. "It's nothing." This wasn't any of his business, he reasoned. She didn't owe him any explanation. She'd been through enough.

"Billy, I can tell there's something on your mind. If you want to know something, just ask. It's not like I have any secrets left—not anymore."

He looked at her. "Alright," he sighed. "I was just thinking…I mean you said things were better for a while, but that they had been bad again for a while too, right?"

She nodded.

"And then you found out you were pregnant?"

"Oh." Phyllis sighed. "You want to know why I was still sleeping with him?"

Hearing her say it made it sound even worse. "No, you know what? No. I don't. That's none of my business. Never mind."

"It's okay. You're right. It doesn't make sense. I guess…I just." She felt the tears building in her eyes again and she didn't have the strength to fight them as they began to fall.

"Phyllis," Billy whispered, terrified to know the answer, but more afraid not to ask the question, "He didn't?"

"No," she sighed, "It was just easier to pacify him. The smallest things could turn into arguments which could turn into…" She let her voice drift off as she saw the expression on his face. "God, I know what you must be thinking. I know how that must sound. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you all this. I told you I shouldn't have."

"I'm the one that's sorry." He knew nothing else to say as he pulled her close to him and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry you had to go through that. I'm sorry I didn't know. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you." He pulled away, looking at her, his mind racing as he tried to think of something—anything—that he could say to make her understand how determined he was to make this better. "I wasn't there then, but I'm here now and I want you to know that I'll be here….if you'll let me. This baby…it can be ours. No one ever has to know any different."

"Billy," she breathed, slightly stunned, "I could never ask you to.."

"You didn't ask," he said softly, brushing the tears away again. "I offered. I want to do this. Maybe this is our chance…Maybe.." The words stopped as his eyes settled on the screen.

"Billy?" She watched as his face changed. "What is it?"

She turned around, to face the screen. "Oh my God."

* * *

"Thanks for letting us do this," Paul said quietly as production counted down.

"It's completely against protocol," Stitch admitted, "but under the circumstances," he shrugged, "Let's just hope it works."

* * *

"And 5, 4, 3, 2,"

"We're interrupting your regularly scheduled programming to bring you breaking news this evening. The Genoa City Police Department needs your help tonight."

* * *

"It looks like it's going well," Stitch said quietly as he looked back at Paul.

"Yeah, he's definitely getting his fifteen minutes," Paul muttered.

Stitch raised his eyebrows. "You think he's hiding something?"

Paul shrugged. "I don't know. I wish Phyllis was here. I don't like that we can't find her. Something about this whole situation doesn't add up to me."

* * *

"So please if you have any information about this incident, please give the Genoa City Police Department a call. You can remain completely anonymous." The anchor turned her attention back to Carl. "Mr. Strickland," she said seriously, "I understand you'd like to address the audience personally."

Carl nodded, pushing himself up as he winced. "While I would, of course, appreciate any help in locating the shooter, my main concern is locating my fiancé, Phyllis Summers." He held a picture up, his eyes filling with tears as he glanced at it. "She's the most important thing in the world to me and I need her here with me to get through this. If you have any information about where she is, please contact the number on your screen. Phyllis—if you're out there, if you can hear me. Just know that I'm here. I'm okay and I'll be waiting right here for you when you get back."


	6. Chapter 6

"If you remember anything—anything at all—I want you to call us, Mr. Stevenson. Even if it seems like a minor detail, it could make a huge difference in the investigation." Paul stood back as he watched the detective hand Carl the card with the contact information for the police department.

Carl nodded, looking past him and locking eyes with Paul. "Has there been any response to the broadcast? Any news at all about Phyllis?"

Paul stepped forward, studying his face intently. If he truly didn't know anything, he was a damn good liar, but he'd seen his fair share of good liars before, Carl certainly wouldn't be the first. "I'm sorry. We haven't heard anything yet."

"I need to get out of here," Carl sighed, pulling at the IVs that were taped to his arm. "I need to be doing something. It's going to drive me crazy just laying here in this bed and waiting like this. If they'd let me out maybe I could help. I could call some people, see if anyone has seen her, heard from her. I could be driving around helping…doing something."

"Mr. Stevenson, please.." the detective warned, looking back at Paul for help.

"Carl," Paul began, "You running around and getting in the middle of this investigation wouldn't do us or Phyllis any good. You're recovering from a gunshot wound. You need to focus on getting your strength back. The best thing you can do right now is try and relax and try to remember some of what happened that night. Believe me, we're doing everything we can to find Phyllis and bring her home safe and we'll let you know the minute we have any information to share." He looked at him, waiting for his silent agreement before nodding for the detective to follow him from the room.

He waited until the door closed behind him before he spoke again.

"What do you think, Chief," the detective asked, "You think he's on the up and up?"

"I don't know," Paul sighed, "but for now, we have to assume that he's telling the truth. If he really doesn't know where Phyllis is, the evidence we've gathered so far indicates she could be in some pretty big trouble. We have to take this seriously. For now, I want you to get a team together and meet me back at the house. I want us to sweep that house from top to bottom. If there's any more evidence to be found there, we need to find it…and fast."

* * *

Billy reached for the remote, the television barely fading to black before Phyllis turned to face him. She was already trembling, tears falling from her eyes, her mouth gaping in horror. Her lips moved as she tried to find words, her chest heaving with shaky breath.

He reached out, his hand touching her face in a feeble attempt at comfort. "Okay," he whispered, unsure of how to even begin, not knowing what if anything could bring her comfort now.

"Billy," she finally managed, "You heard him…you heard what he said…"

She fought for her breath again, the sight of her so broken in front of him breaking his heart. "He said he would be waiting…he's said he'd be waiting…"

It was a full blown panic and he couldn't blame her. A man that had terrorized her for months in ways he probably still had yet to hear had just appeared again after she believed he was finally gone. "Hey," he whispered, his hands resting on her shoulder, the gesture feeling unbelievably trivial in the midst of the situation, "it didn't say anything about you being involved in the shooting. They're worried about you. The police are worried."

Phyllis shook her head. "He's not…I know him, Billy." The shaking was worse now. "He's going to kill me…he's going to find me and kill me and he won't stop, Billy. He won't."

His hand stroked her hair as he looked at her. "That won't happen. Maybe he really doesn't remember anything."

"He does…I know he does…I could see it…I could just see it. His eyes…" She fought to control her breath as she held her arms tight around her body, her sharp intake of breath immediately garnering his attention. Billy watched as her face contorted in pain.

"Phyllis—what's going on?"

She closed her eyes, forcing air out slowly through her lips. His face was close to hers as she opened her eyes again.

"Talk to me," he said softly.

"I'm okay, I think," she managed, "For now…until…." Her voice broke again, the tears streaming down her face.

Never before had he felt so helpless and in the moment he knew of no other option—nothing else that could possibly bring her any comfort. He lay back against the headboard, gently easing her down beside him. He wrapped his arms around her, allowing her head to rest against his chest—in the same way they had so many times before. She'd told him before that she never felt as content as she did in his arms and he hoped he could bring her some semblance of that feeling tonight. The tension was everywhere—her neck, her shoulders, even her arms and legs fought the gentle embrace, but he persisted.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered, his hand lightly stroking her arm. "I promise you."

He felt her shake her head, her body still shaking with sobs and he held her tighter. "He's going to come after me, Billy," she whispered, slowly allowing her body to fall into the embrace she knew so well. "I know it—and he's going to want to make me pay."

"Let him try. Let him do his worst. He's never gonna touch you again." He'd been so busy thinking about her, worrying about keeping her safe and trying to make sure she was alright that he hadn't allowed himself to fully process the situation. It was probably better that way. Every time he had even a moment to think about what went on in that house—when he thought about what that man did, about what he was continuing to do, it made him sick inside.

The shaking had almost stopped now. Billy looked down, his fingertips lightly touching her face, his breath catching as she looked at him. He'd give anything to take her away from all of it, but now wasn't the time to get into that. "Listen," he whispered, "I know this is a lot—I can't imagine what you're going through, but I need to make sure you're alright….with the baby and everything. You were in pain earlier and I just want to make sure that you don't need to go to the hospital."

She shook her head, closing her eyes as she let her head fall back to his chest, the sound of his heart beating soothing her just as it always had. "I'm okay," she whispered. "I just want to stay here. We're okay here."


	7. Chapter 7

Paul stood by the door as he watched the forensics team do their work. This was often the hardest part of the job—when you had to stand back and wait, just hoping that you'd find some information that would enable you to do your job. He raised his eyes when the young detective approached him. "Anything?" he asked hopefully.

"I just got a call from the station," he said, shaking his head. He knew his response wasn't what the chief wanted to hear. "The prints on the gun were all partials. They know some were Carl's, but the others are so distorted that we'll have to run them through multiple databases to see if there's any way to search for potential matches and that'll take weeks—best case scenario."

Paul sighed. "What about the sweep? Any more evidence uncovered?"

"Just this." The detective held out a plastic bag containing the pregnancy test.

Paul glanced down at it, the results now fairly faded, but still clear enough to discern.

"Looks like he was telling the truth, huh?" the detective said solemnly, looking up at the Chief for confirmation.

"Yeah it does," Paul agreed, "At least about that." He shook his head. "I don't know. I just can't shake the feeling that something still feels very off about this whole thing. We've got some guys talking to some neighbors, just trying to gauge what the relationship was like. I'm gonna head out and see what they've found. I'll meet you back at the station in a few."

Paul watched as the detective headed outside before heading out the door himself. He met two officers heading back towards the driveway.

"We talked to a couple of the neighbors," the young female officer responded before Paul even had a chance to inquire, "By all accounts they seemed to be a normal, happy couple. No mention of a pregnancy though."

"Yeah—Carl said they hadn't announced anything yet, so that makes sense." Paul paused a moment. "Thanks you guys. If you'll just finish the reports and drop them off on my desk, I'll appreciate it."

He headed back to his car, sitting in the front seat for a moment before starting up. Though he had no real evidence to go on and, in truth, no real reason to be suspicious, everything in him screamed that Carl wasn't what he claimed to be—but without any evidence to back up his gut feeling, continuing the investigation was just going to look like a witch hunt and he couldn't afford that. Today would be a great day to be able to go home and talk to his wife, to get some advice, some perspective, but Christine was anything but objective when it came to matters involving Phyllis. This was something he'd have to work through on his own.

* * *

His arm was dead weight and had been for the better part of the last hour, but he hadn't dared move. Phyllis had finally drifted off to sleep and she actually looked at peace. There was nothing he wouldn't suffer to give her that. As if on cue, he felt her stir in his arms, her eyes fluttering open and peering up at him. She quickly jolted into awareness, her eyes darting around the room as she jerked to sit up.

"It's alright," he said quietly, desperately trying to lull her back into the serenity of the last few minutes. "You're okay."

He felt her shoulders drop as the air left her lungs in a deep sigh. "Sorry," she breathed, "For a moment I just didn't…I don't know..I'm a bit of a wreck if you hadn't noticed." She turned to look at him again, a weak smile playing across her face.

"You're far from a wreck," he whispered, welcoming her back into his embrace as she leaned back against him. They sat quietly for a moment as he studied her face. Her eyes had that faraway look, the same look she got when she was thinking about something—something that was either something she knew he wouldn't like, or something she was afraid to share. "What's going on in there?" he asked, lightly stroking her hair.

She looked at him, her eyes already shimmering with tears, "I don't want you to think I don't trust you, or I don't believe you when you say you'll keep me safe."

"But you don't," he said, sadly.

"It's not about that. I believe you'd do everything you could…and that's just it. I don't want you to. You'd be putting yourself in danger and I can't have that. I can't." Phyllis saw the look in his eyes, the hurt. It was almost a rejection for him and she hated feeling as if she was breaking his heart again. She reached for his hands, the feel of his warmth spreading through her. "You don't know him like I do," she whispered, "You don't know what he's like when he feels threatened. He's going to be even more determined now. He knows I'm pregnant and he's going to be worried about what people will think and how it will look. He'll need to make sure I don't talk. I know him, Billy."

"I already told you." His eyes were staring directly into hers and he felt the slight tremble in her touch again, through this time he wasn't sure if it was the fear or the sheer intensity of the moment. "As long as I'm alive, he will never touch you again."

"He can take care of that." Her voice broke as she said the words, the admission of her worst fear proving too powerful for her.

"Don't," he said gently, "Please…listen, we'll go away. We can disappear—go somewhere that no one knows who we are. We can leave the country."

"Billy." It was hard to even fathom his offer, his willingness to leave his entire life behind to keep her safe, especially after the way she'd treated him, but here he was, taking care of her, protecting her, promising her that he'd make everything ok—just as he always had. She shook her head. "I could never ask you to do that. What about your kids? You'd have to leave them. You could never do that."

He closed his eyes. "Yeah, I would, and I'm not gonna lie, that would be hard, but my kids have Victoria and her family and my family. They are surrounded by love. They'll be protected and cared for and as hard as it would be to walk away from them, I know that they'd be okay. Who do you have, Phyllis? Who will take care of you?"

"You love your children, Billy. I know that—I've seen you with them. It's one of the things…" She stopped herself, swallowing hard. "It's one of the things that makes you who you are."

"Yeah, I do…absolutely I do. I love my kids, Phyllis, but I love you too."


	8. Chapter 8

"You don't..You don't have to say that." He felt her move away from him, as if the situation had suddenly become a little too heavy and a lot too real.

His hand closed around her arm, gently pulling her back towards him, his fingertips nudging her face back towards his. "Please don't do that," he whispered. He hadn't meant to say it, certainly not in that way. The last thing she needed was more drama and more complications. He wanted to help her, to be here for her, not to make things more difficult. "I'm not asking you for anything," he continued, "and I'm sorry if what I said made you feel uncomfortable. I never meant it to.."

Her eyes softened. "It's not that. I just don't want to mess up your life again."

It amazed him how her perception could be so different from his own. What she considered to be the destruction of his life consisted of perhaps the most authentic moments he'd ever experienced—moments where he'd been the most content, the most happy, and felt the most accepted. "You never messed up my life," he sighed, shaking his head, and touching her face again. "And even though I didn't mean to say what I said—at least not right then—it doesn't mean I didn't mean it." His eyes stared into hers, giving her a moment to process his words before he continued.

"You didn't deserve the way Carl treated you. Do you hear me? You didn't deserve to be hurt like that. But none of that has anything to do with the way I feel about you. This isn't about me feeling sorry for you. I told you I loved you and I meant it. I love _you._ I love the person you are, the person you've always been. I love your strength and your gentleness, the way you still trust people even though the world has given you every reason not to, I love how you will go to ends of the earth to protect the people you love—just like you protected your baby. You stepped up to protect yourself and your child, Phyllis. The only thing left for you to do now is be willing to accept a little help from someone that wants to be there for you."

His hands swept the hair away from her face as he studied the conflicted look in her eyes. "You know you don't always have to carry the weight of the world on those beautiful shoulders of yours. I can keep you safe and I can raise this baby with you, if you let me—and I want to. I want to be there for you…and for the baby. So, I guess that's the question. Will you let me help you?"

* * *

Carl tossed the remote down on the tray table. There had been no response from his personal appeal to the viewers and the local news was barely covering the story. At this rate, he'd never find Phyllis—especially when he knew she wasn't exactly itching to be found. He sighed deeply, reaching across the table to find his cell phone. His eyes scanned the contact list, finding the number and quickly bringing the phone to his ear.

His eyebrows raised in interest as he heard the voice answer. "Hi," he said, pausing for a moment to allow the person to speak. "Yeah. No, I'm still in this stupid hospital." Another slight pause before he spoke again—"No, no news yet, but she's not gonna be able to run forever, right?" He smiled as he listened to the conversation on the other end, a soft laugh emanating from his chest and causing him to grip his side in slight discomfort. "Yeah, well, I suppose that's true. Anyway, I just wanted to make sure you got the disk? Right..Yeah, that's right. Just make absolutely sure that edit is clear and that there's no kind of indication that the footage has been trimmed." His listened intently, nodding his head with a satisfied smile. "Absolutely, yes—I've seen your work and it's always been impeccable. Just make sure this time is no exception. I'll make sure it's worth your while. When you're done, just return it to the camera if you can. If not, give me a call."

He waited until the heard the familiar beep before turning the phone over and placing it back on the table. Leaning back against the pillow, he wondered exactly what Phyllis had been thinking when she'd aimed the gun at him. Had she wanted to kill him or was she simply trying to get him to stop? Either way it didn't matter. She'd come back, just as she always had. He'd make sure of it.

* * *

"You haven't answered my question." Billy reached out, placing his hand on top of hers. His hopes deflated as he felt her tremble at his touch. "Phyllis," he said softly…

"Wait," she whispered, needing to stop him, to try and make him understand. "You are…" She paused, words seemed inconsequential to describe exactly what she felt about him. "You are the only person in the world that I can think of that could ever make me feel safe right now." Her eyes drifted up to meet his. "But you have—you did—in the midst of all of this craziness, I've known that I was safe with you and I know that you mean everything you say, but I also know you couldn't life without your children in your life."

Billy opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he felt her soft hand touch his lips.

"I know you'd try. You'd try because you'd do anything to help me, to keep me safe, to protect me, but every day a piece of you would die and I couldn't life with myself knowing that I was the one that caused that. I couldn't watch you go through that." The thought of it broke her heart. One of the things she'd always known about Billy was that he loved his children with his whole heart. His eyes lit up when he talked about them and the thought of not being a part of his life was more than she could handle.

"And besides that," she continued, "I don't want to live with this constant fear hanging over us. What kind of life would that be? For us? For my child? We'd have to endlessly try and come up with stories to explain who we were and why we were in these strange places. We could never be honest with anyone. We've lived life in the shadows—I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want my child to have to live that way."

"Our child," he corrected. "It would be our child." He could still see the doubt in her eyes. "No matter what you decide about going. Regardless of if we go back to Genoa City or not, I want you to know that I'll be here for you and for this baby. Carl won't come near you."

"He's the baby's father, Billy. He has rights too."

"The hell he does." The words came out in a rush and more harsh than he intended. The Phyllis he knew never cowered, but this was a different person—this was a woman that had been suffering in silence for a long time. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I just…I get so damn angry when I think about what was going on in that house." Her eyes slowly lifted to meet his again.

"It's okay," she whispered.

"No, it' isn't. It isn't okay, Phyllis. There's nothing about this that is okay. Carl lost his right to be a part of your life and apart of this child's life the minute he put his hands on you in anger and I need you to believe that. I'll make sure he can't hurt you if you want to go back and face this."

She nodded, taking a deep breath. "I do…I want to go back."

"So, you're gonna tell them. You're gonna tell them the truth—everything that happened."

Phyllis looked up at him, hesitating. "Not exactly."


	9. Chapter 9

"What do you mean?"

She sighed as she heard the concern in his voice and felt the weight of his eyes steady on her. It was comforting knowing he cared so much, but at the same time, it was terrifying. His heart was so filled with love for her that it made him irrational. Every moment he stayed with her and every time lie he told put him in more danger. No matter how much she appreciated his help, and how good it felt to be with him again, she couldn't chance putting him in danger.

Phyllis took a deep breath before speaking. "I am going back to Genoa City and I am going to tell the police what I did, but I'm not telling them everything." She heard his immediate protest and spoke louder in an attempt to continue. His deep sigh signaled his surrender. "I need you to let me do this. I'm going to tell the police that I shot Carl and I need you to forget everything that's happened these last few days. As far as you're concerned, you haven't seen me, you haven't been with me, and I haven't told you anything."

Billy shook his head. "Why?"

"Because, I'm not bringing you down with me…I'm not. What you did, as amazing as it was to me, the police aren't going to see it that way. What I see as a wonderful thing you did to help a friend, they're going to see as a crime and I can't let that happen…not when you were just trying to protect me." She paused, knowing she needed to explain more, already sensing he was going to argue. "I'll just tell the police that I thought Carl was having an affair. I'll tell them I was pregnant and hormonal and that things just got out of control. I'll say that I didn't mean to shoot him—that I didn't even know the gun was loaded."

"Come on, Phyllis. The police are never gonna buy that."

"Christine and I…well, we've got some history. It won't be a stretch for her to believe that I would do something like this.

"I can't. I can't let you do this, Phyllis. Do you have any idea what could happen to you? They could send you to prison…and not just for a few months or a few years. You could spend ten years or more locked up in a cell with people that…" He stopped, unable to voice the horrible things he envisioned. "You don't belong there," he whispered. "Please don't do this."

"Maybe they'll go easy on me," she said softly, trying to force a slight smile, a tear escaping her eye and floating softly down her cheek.

"And what if they don't?" Billy quickly wiped her cheek dry with his thumb, allowing his hand to rest against her face for a long moment. "You've got to think about this, Phyllis. Really think about this. Think about your kids, about your family. Think about this baby…what kind of life are you going to have being pregnant behind bars?" He hated saying these things to her especially as she seemed to crumble more and more with each passing thought, but he had to find something to get through to her. He couldn't allow her to take this kind of risk. "Think about me," he finally said softly, his eyes staring deeply into hers. "I'd miss you…so much."

Her breath caught in her throat as she chocked back a sob and his hand brushed her back softly as he head fell against his chest. He closed his eyes as he let his head drop to her shoulder, needing to feel her next to him, to hold her close as much as she needed to be held. As she pulled away and looked up at him, he believed she understood, finally understanding the absurdity of her plan.

"That's all I've been thinking about, Billy," she said, her voice still a bit broken. "I can't risk telling them what really happened because what if they don't believe me…or worse, what if they do believe me and Carl manages to get out of this somehow. He's got a lot of connections. He could hire a great lawyer and finagle his way through the legal system. If I ever told anyone, he'd kill me and no matter what you say, you couldn't protect me from him. No one could. I'm begging you…if you really care about me." She stopped, her eyes now pleading with him. "If you love me the way that you say you do, you won't fight me on this. I know what I need to do and I'm asking you to help me do it. What I need from you is a ride home…that's all."

"I…" He looked at her, his own eyes now holding pleas of his own, "You're asking me to do the one thing that I'm not sure I can do. You're asking me to take you back to a situation that I know is going to hurt you. I promised you that I'd keep you safe. I swore to you that nothing bad would happen to you as long as I was here and I just…"

She reached out, taking his hand in hers. "You can't save me from everything," she whispered. "I know how much you want to, but you can't, but you have no idea how much it means to me that you care so much and that you were willing to take all this on for me. I'll never forget that."

"Stop it. Stop talking to me like you're saying your goodbyes. This isn't over. If I can't talk you out of this insanity, I'm sure as hell not walking away from you while you do it. I'll do what you ask—I'll take you back and I'll forget all this, but I'm not staying away from you. I'm gonna be there and if Carl so much as breathes on you…"

He felt her lean in against him again as he wrapped his arms tight around her, not wanting to let her go. "Promise me," he whispered, "Promise me you won't shut me out. If you're gonna do this, I can't let you do it alone." Her gentle nod brought him little comfort. The last thing in the world he wanted was to deliver her back to the life he'd taken her from, but at least this time he'd be there. This time Carl should be the one watching his back.


	10. Chapter 10

Billy pulled the car to a stop at the far end of the hospital parking lot. The ride back to town had been largely silent with neither of them knowing exactly what to say. He turned slowly, his eyes meeting hers for the first time since they'd left the hotel. "And you're sure there's nothing I can say to change your mind? It's not too late you know." He held his breath, hoping that perhaps she'd admit that she'd made a rash decision, that she'd agree to let him take her away from all of this, but he knew in his heart she wouldn't. She'd made up her mind and there was no changing it.

He sighed as he saw her weak smile.

"I have to do this," she whispered.

"Still—I hate just dropping you off like this. I wish I could at least go in there with you..make sure you get in alright."

Phyllis shook her head. "That wouldn't be good. We can't be seen together right now. Remember as far as you're concerned, you haven't seen me, you haven't talked to me. You don't know anything about what's gone on or where I've been—nothing more than what they've reported on the news, okay?"

He nodded. "Alright. I'm just going to drive around for a bit and then I'm going to come in. I'll say I came to visit Carl and see if there was anything I could do to help with the investigation."

"Billy," she warned.

"That was the deal," he reminded her, his voice still warm, but more firm. "I told you that I'd let you do this if you were determined to do it, but that I wouldn't leave you alone in it. You can't ask me to just walk away now…especially…." He swallowed hard, still finding it hard to wrap his brain around the whole situation, "especially knowing everything that I know."

Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment. Billy could be impossibly stubborn, but it came from a good place. Everything he'd done, everything he continued to do was to protect her and she certainly couldn't fault him for that. It was nice to have someone care about her. She nodded, reaching for the handle of the door. "I should go," she whispered.

"Phyllis."

She felt his hand touch her arm, the warmth of his touch startling her slightly as they sat there. Her face turned slowly back to face him, her eyes staring into his. "Yeah?" she whispered.

"Please be careful."

She nodded quickly and got out of the car.

* * *

The cool wind provided the perfect incentive to quicken her pace and she found herself nearly jogging by the time she reached the hospital room doors. She glanced around, thankful no one had spotted her in the walk to the front. The last thing she wanted was to have to explain anything to anyone. It would be hard enough to explain to Stitch and she was fairly certain he'd be preoccupied making sure she wasn't injured. That should be to her advantage at least. She walked through the automatic doors, making her way to the nurses desk with her head down.

"Phyllis?"

She jumped, turning around to face the voice.

Stitch stood, staring at her. "My God…" He rushed over, placing his clipboard on the desk beside her. "Where have you…"

She hadn't expected him to appear so suddenly. No words seemed to appear and she found herself standing there, mouth slightly ajar as she just stared. Her voice finally appeared as she stammered, "I…I don't…I'm not…"

"Here," he said quickly, ushering her slowly over to a chair, "You sit down here. It's alright." He motioned to a nurse. "Get me an available room asap." Turning his attention back to Phyllis, he stood up, doing a quick check. "Lots of people have been looking for you, you know that?"

"Dr. Rayburn? The room?" The nurse gestured to a room across the way and Stitch moved to help her stand.

"You okay to walk?"

Phyllis nodded, allowing him to wrap his arm around her waist and walking slowly with him into the room. She gladly lay down on the bed as an orderly hooked her up to the monitors. She watched as Stitch and a few nurses discussed her situation in hushed tones. She was fine—they didn't need to worry about her. There was only one thing she was concerned with. "The baby," she said quietly, relieved with Stitch approached. "The baby," she repeated.

Stitch nodded. "We're gonna have someone in here to check everything out really soon okay?" He smiled warmly at her as he gently patted her shoulder. "For now, I've got to let the police know you're here and there's someone else that's gonna be very happy to know you're back as well." The heart monitor beeped, and his eyes looked over. "Everything's alright," he said quickly. "Carl's fine. He's going to need to take it easy for a bit, but he's going to be okay. I'm sure he'll be a whole lot better once he knows you're here."

She forced a smile. "I'm sure," she whispered.

* * *

"It's open." Carl looked up, his eyes widening a bit when he saw the face at the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Sorry," Billy said. His hands clenched tight as he held them by his side. The simple sight of his face made his blood boil and it took everything in him not to reach out and jerk him off that bed. He didn't deserve to be alive. He didn't deserve to be breathing clean air after what he'd done. "Bad time?"

"No. Of course not. I'm just surprised to see you…that's all. I never really thought…" Carl stopped himself. "Well, never mind." His mind spun with possibilities. If Billy was here that probably meant Phyllis wasn't far away. He would have placed heavy bets on the fact they were holed up somewhere together, Billy being her white knight and all, but now that Mr. Hero was back….

"Never thought what?" Billy pressed, taking a few steps closer towards the bed. He knew he couldn't press too much—couldn't show his hand. Carl couldn't know that he knew anything. That would put Phyllis in danger and nothing was worse that…not even the thought of giving Carl exactly what he deserved.

"I just never really thought you liked me very much, that's all. I guess I never really figured you'd be showing up to visit."

"Well, to be honest, Carl, you weren't entirely wrong about that. I'm not really here for you. I saw the new story about Phyllis' disappearance and I want to help. I just stopped by to see if there was anything you needed…if there was anything I could do."

Carl nodded. So that's what this was—a fishing expedition. "Oh, well, I think the police are fielding some leads. I'm really not sure if they have anything. They won't tell me much. I think they're afraid I'm going to try to be some kind of vigilante."

"I can understand that," Billy scoffed. "If I thought Phyllis was in danger, I can certainly see myself doing whatever it took to protect her…even if that meant hurting someone..or worse." He looked him directly in the eyes as he said the final words.

"Yeah, well…I wish I could do more, but they won't let me out of this place. They keep saying I need to rest and relax but what they don't realize is all I do is sit here and think about all the horrible things that could be happening…"

Billy couldn't listen to it..not one more word. Watching him go on and on about Phyllis was more than he could stand. He knew what he'd done, what he would continue to do if given half the chance and he couldn't stand there and act as if he didn't. "Yeah," he said quickly, "Well, I'm sure they're only doing what they think is best. I really should let you get your rest. And I'll just check with the police and see if there's anything they need with the investigation." He didn't wait for a response, simply heading out the door quickly and shutting it behind him.

He swallowed hard, forcing the bile back down his throat, clenching his eyes tight to try and erase the image of Carl's smug face from his mind. Quickly he walked towards the door. He needed some air.

* * *

"Oh, thank you for getting here so qui…" Her voice stopped, her entire body stilling.

"I thought there was someone you might like to see," Stitch said, a bright smile shining on his face as he pushed the wheelchair into the room.

Phyllis breathed in, forcing herself not to cringe as she felt Carl's hand take hers. "Carl," she managed, her voice trembling a bit no matter how hard she tried to control it.

"I'll give you two some time alone. I've already called Chief Williams. He should be here to ask you some questions shortly," Stitch said quietly.

She wanted to stop him, to beg him not to leave, but one look at Carl and she closed her mouth, letting the words die. He waited until he heard the door shut before he leaned closer to her.

"Carl," she whispered, her entire body trembling now as tears welled up in her eyes, "Please just…"

"Shhh…"

She felt his hand squeeze hers tighter, tight enough to be a warning but not quite enough to cause any real pain. "You just listen," he said, his voice low and menacing, "I'm going to tell you exactly how this is going to go and exactly what you're going to say. If you do what I say, everybody wins. If you don't…" He squeezed her hand tighter and she drew in a quick breath. "Just do what I say."


	11. Chapter 11

Billy rushed past a group of people who stood waiting near the hospital exit. He needed to get out of there, to know that he was no longer in the same building as that man. As his feet hit the pavement and he drew in a deep breath of air, he realized his relief was far too bittersweet. He might be out of the building, but she was still inside.

More than anything in the world, he wanted to be beside her right now. Protecting her and being there for her was something he'd become accustomed to, something he had learned to admire in himself as much as she'd come to count on it from him. For so many years, he'd been regarded as the family screw up. Everyone knew it. Billy Abbott was the black sheep—the one that would surely self destruct. He'd hang himself if given enough rope and ample time, but Phyllis didn't see that in him. To her, he was a safe place—he was a sanctuary and while it was a comfort to her to have him, it was affirming for him to know he was needed. She always said he was her safe place and every time she ran into his arms he was reminded that, at least for one person, he was worth running to instead of away from.

He hated thinking of her in that hospital room. She was alone and no doubt scared to death. The thought of Carl with her made his skin crawl and he tried desperately to push the thought from his mind. Surely the hospital staff would alert the police that she was here. They should be here to question her soon. He didn't want to see them, not before Phyllis had a chance to tell them her version of the story. Letting her take the blame went against every instinct he had, but he had given her his word and that meant something. With a deep breath, he pushed his legs forward, back towards the revolving hospital doors. The sooner the lies were told, the sooner he could be by her side again.

* * *

"Please let go of me," she hissed, her eyes burning with tears, "You're hurting me."

Carl released his grip on her arm, leaning back at bit as he stared hard into her eyes. "I don't want to hurt you, okay?" He softened his voice a bit. "I know you're upset…I know things got a little crazy the other night."

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him. "A little crazy? That's what you call that?"

"Keep your voice down," he warned, the menacing tone returning again. "I'm trying to be understanding here. Don't make me regret it. We can play this another way if that's what you want?"

Phyllis shook her head, knowing all too well what he meant. She'd heard these words far too many times. The other alternatives were never good. "The other night," she said softly. "About what happened..."

"Save it," he interrupted. "You can save your sack of shit lies." His eyes were filled with disgust as he stared down at her. "I know exactly what happened that night. I remember every word you said, every move you made, and every single visitor you had." His lips curled into a small smile as he said the last few words and he laughed a bit as he saw the fearful realization in her eyes. "That's right," he sighed. "I know you had a little helper show up."

"Carl…just stop, please. Listen, I'm going to tell them what I did. I am. I'm going to tell them I was jealous over something stupid and that I shot you. I'll tell them it was an accident and that's all they have to know. That's all anyone ever has to know, okay? Please…"

"Hush," he whispered, his hand reaching up and softly wiping a tear off her cheek. She turned her face away, disgusted by the show of phony concern. Instantly his tender touch flared into rage and her grabbed her chin tight between his thumb and forefinger and turned her face back towards him. "Fine," he sneered. "We'll do this your way."

She closed her eyes tight, refusing to look at him.

Carl loosened his grip on her face, waiting to speak until she opened her eyes, his lips curving into a smile as her eyes met his again. "There you go," he whispered. "Isn't that better? Now…I could never let you admit a thing like that, sweetheart…and do you know why?"

Phyllis sat silent.

"Because if you did, they'd lock you up…and I couldn't let the woman I love go to prison." He leaned down close to her, "Especially when she's carrying my child." His hand reached across her, resting on her still flat stomach. "What kind of man would I be if I let something like that happen, huh? Anything could happen to you in there."

"Carl, I…"

His voice was louder now, yet somehow still not yelling. "Didn't I tell you that I had this all figured out? If you'll shut up for a damn minute, I'll tell you exactly what you're going to tell the police when they get here."

She drew in a shaky breath, his gaze still enough to frighten her. Slowly she nodded.

"You're going to tell them that you woke up in a motel a few towns over…you don't know how you got there or what happened the night of the shooting. We were happy. We were having a baby and everything with us was fine."

"What if..What if they don't believe me?" she stammered, her mind reeling.

"You'll make them believe you," Carl said firmly.

"What if I can't," she asked, then after drawing in a deep breath, "What if I won't?"

Carl laughed quietly, standing up and taking a few steps away from the bed before quickly turning around and rushing back towards her. He loomed over her, his face mere inches from hers as he whispered, "If you don't, I'll tell them about Mr. Billy Abbott, the man whose fingerprints will match the partial prints that are currently unidentified on the gun. I'll also turn over a surveillance tape that just so happens to show good ol' Billy entering our house on the night of the shooting..and better still, I'll give them a play by play of every single thing that Billy did to help you that night. Wouldn't that be fun?"

He stood up, enjoying the look of horror that spread across her face.

"Why are you doing this? Why not just let me take the fall for this? I'm the one who shot you…why not let me go to jail for it?"

"Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you? You think you could confess and then go bat your eyes for a judge and jury…get off with some community service and maybe some anger management classes, right?"

Phyllis shook her head furiously. "No, that's not what I think at all…I…"

"No…but Billy Abbott…it would be a different tune for him. I tell the police what he did and he's going to serve some time for this. You know they say that sometimes the people that conspire to commit the crimes actually get more time than the people that actually do the crime…the legal system is crazy sometimes. And whereas you—if you even served time—would get some minimum security women's facility, Billy would go to prison—real prison with real criminals. Those guys are desperate for anything. For less money than I pay for a decent dinner out, I could pay one or two of them to make his life a living hell the entire time he's inside. For a little more, who knows what might happen."

Tears streamed down her face as she listened to the words, the thought of Billy ending up in prison was exactly what she'd been trying to avoid by coming back.

"Awww," Carl took a seat on the side of the bed, pressing his palm against her cheek again. "Don't look so horrified, pumpkin. Everything is gonna be just fine. Nothing bad will happen to your precious Billy as long as you tell the story exactly like I told you to."

"And you swear…you'll leave him alone. You'll leave him out of this completely…swear it."

"Well, there's just one other thing you have to agree to first," he said with a smile."

Phyllis stared at him, fear welling up inside her. "What? What more could you possibly want from me?"

"It shouldn't be too hard—especially considering our little impending arrival," he smiled. "Just come home with me and be my wife."


	12. Chapter 12

"You can't be serious?" It was hard enough to simply be in the same room with him, even knowing that they were within ear shot of doctors and nurses. Carl was smart and though he would threaten and intimidate her, he'd never hurt her in a place with so many witnesses. There was some small comfort in that, but the thought of going back to that house, of living with him day in and day out, of going through that volatility, that uncertainty again—it made her feel sick inside.

"I've never been more serious about anything in my entire life," Carl said quietly, his tone considerably more calm, his features softening again as he looked down at her.

She knew this pattern. This was the way it always happened. There had been many times throughout their relationship when she'd wondered how he could possibly care about her. It made no sense that a man capable of doing what he did could truly want her in his life and yet somehow he would show moments of such intense devotion that she began to question her own instincts and, at times, her own sanity. He could be so damn convincing, so apologetic, so sincere.

"Listen," he whispered, "I know you're angry with me. I said some things…some things that I shouldn't have said, but I think we have a responsibility now. We have to work on this. We have to make this right…for our baby."

Phyllis swallowed hard, the thought of bringing a child into this insanity made her want to scream. "You don't honestly think I'd come back to that house with you…not after what happened?" She saw the twitch in his face as his muscles tightened, the flash of anger in his eyes was distinct and quick, but not missed—even though he quickly covered.

"I know." Carl hung his head, running his fingers through his hair. "I know I messed up, but you're gonna come home and we're gonna get married and we'll raise this baby together. It'll be better. It was better before. It'll be better again."

"Sometimes I really think you're out of your mind," she muttered, realizing instantly she'd said too much.

His face changed quickly. "What did you say?"

She took a breath. She was tired of cowering, tired of watching her words, tired of fearing his reaction. She was just so damn tired. "I said you must be out of your mind to think I would ever come back to that house with you. Isn't it enough now? My God, Carl…I could have killed you. This doesn't work and now there's a baby to think about. This is crazy. You think I'm some kind of masochist? That I'm just going to come back home with me so you can kill me next time?"

His normal fits of rage were easier to read than this calm, quiet fury. He leaned in towards her, his voice low and menacing. "No," he said, "I don't think you're a masochist. I think you're a love-sick fool and I happen to know you'd do absolutely anything to protect Billy Abbott. It's sickening really." Carl pulled back a bit, studying her eyes, the tears that began to well up within them the instant Billy's name was mentioned. "He was here earlier, you know, all hyped up with fake concern for you. I've got to tell you though, he's a bit better at the lying part than you are."

Phyllis felt her heart began to pound faster and she struggled not to react. "Billy was here? You saw him? You talked to him?" She forced her breathing to slow.

"Yeah, he came to my room with some bull shit story about seeing the news bit and wanting to help with the investigation. It would be romantic if it wasn't so damn pathetic."

"Carl." Her voice was shaking and she felt helpless to stop it. "What did you do?"

He smiled. "You are so suspicious," he whispered, shaking his head as he leaned back against her legs. "I didn't do anything—didn't say anything. I just let the man talk. It was tough though because there was so much I wanted to say. I mean..soooo much." He grinned broadly at her. "I know everything and now that we have a few minutes in here alone, I just want to know—Did you really think you could just shoot me and leave there to die? It was bad enough that you were a crap shot, but then you go and make that ridiculous phone call and you sit there and fall apart like that until Mr. White Knight gets there and scoops you up…takes you out of there to parts unknown." Carl paused, smiling again as he watched the look of horror spread across her face. "And let me just say, it was hard as hell to just lay there and wait for the two of you to finally get your act together and get your asses out of there. I thought you'd never leave so I could call my own damn ambulance."

Phyllis felt the tears stream down her cheeks. "I was so sure….I was so sure you were…"

"What? Dead? Well, sorry about your luck, but I don't plan on checking out any time soon. We've still got lots to look forward to, don't we?" Carl glanced back towards the door as he heard movement in the hallway. "And speaking of our little bundle of joy…" He stood, extending his hand to the doctor as she stepped into the room, followed by a nurse with an ultrasound machine.

The doctor smiled. "If the two of you are ready, we'll just go ahead and take a look here—see about getting this little one a clean bill of health."

* * *

Billy stood at the back of the waiting room. He'd seen Paul and a couple of uniforms walk in and speak to Stitch about five minutes ago, but they hadn't entered any of the rooms yet. His mind raced with nightmarish scenarios. What if something had happened to Phyllis? What if they couldn't go in because she was hurt, because something had happened with the baby? What if Carl had done something? Billy took a few steps closer, hearing one of the officers say Phyllis' name.

"I'm sorry," he said, interrupting the conversation, "Did you say something about Phyllis Summers?"

Paul turned, immediately stepping in front of Billy and pushing him away from the conversation. "Billy," he said quietly, "I know you're worried, but this is an active investigation and we can't give out any information."

"Look, I know…I get it Paul, but I just want to know if you've found anything….if you've heard from her. I just want to know if she's alright."

"I'm sorry Billy, I can't tell you anything."

"Paul, please….you know me. I'm not trying to complicate anything please. Just tell me if you've found her…that's all I want to know. Just tell me you've found her and she's okay."

Paul sighed. As Chief of Police he had a job to do, but before any of that, he had a family, he had a wife, he had people he cared about and if any of them were in this kind of danger, he'd want to know the very same thing. He stepped in close, dropping his head and speaking in hushed tones. "She's here...in that room. Doctors are checking her out now. We're waiting to question her when they're done. That's all I can tell you."

Billy breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God," he whispered. He looked up at Paul. "Thanks, Paul."

As Paul headed back to the chairs, Billy caught one of the detectives. He gestured to the room. "She's not alone in there is she? Someone should be there for her."

"Oh, they brought her boyfriend in a little bit ago…the guy that got shot. He's with her," the detective said with a smile.

Billy gripped the back of the chair, his legs feeling weak beneath him. "Good," he managed, as the detective nodded and walked away. He turned to face the door. There were doctors in the room, he reminded himself. She'd be fine, but the second they left… Billy shook his head as he looked back over his shoulder at Paul. Police are no police, there was no way in hell Carl was staying in that room with her alone.


	13. Chapter 13

Billy stepped back his eyes never leaving the door as he watched it slowly open. A sigh of relief left his lips as he watched a nurse wheel Carl from the room with the doctors and equipment following right behind him. He wanted to rush in, to comfort her, knowing the presence of Carl had certainly shaken her, but he could already see Paul and the detectives heading towards the opened door. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath.

* * *

Phyllis heard the soft knock on the door. She felt her heartbeat faster, hoping against hope that it was him. "Come in," she said quickly, her eyes lifting hopefully. Her eyes fell on Paul and she struggled not to show her disappointment. "Hi Paul," she whispered.

"Hi yourself," Paul said with a warm smile. "I know you probably won't believe this, but it's actually good to see you. You had a lot of people very worried about you."

"So I've heard," she said quietly, the words Carl said echoing inside her mind. "It's been a rough few days."

"That's what I'd like to talk to you about." Paul motioned to another detective and moved closer to the side of the bed. "Phyllis, we need to know anything you remember about the night of the shooting, from the beginning."

Her eyes burned, her hands already beginning to tremble again. She squeezed them together tight, almost to the point of pain. "That's just it," she whispered, "I really don't remember much. Carl and I were planning to go get dinner I think….it's all very fuzzy and the next thing I'm sure of is waking up in this motel. I didn't know where I was. I didn't know how I got there."

"Wait a minute…" Paul eyed the detective suspiciously, "You're saying you have absolutely no memory of the shooting at all and that you don't remember where you've been these past few days?"

"No," she said, her eyes wide and filled with tears. "I woke up and realized I was in a strange place and that I had no idea what had happened."

"So how did you get back here?" the detective said brusquely. "You said you didn't know where you were…did you call a cab?"

Paul shot him a warning look.

"I…No. I didn't. My car..My car was there. I guess whoever brought me there left it." Her mind began to spin and she brought her hand to her head as she felt the room begin to tilt.

"Alright, Alright…that's enough for now," Paul said as he moved to stand. "We can finish this up later. I don't mean to upset you. I can only imagine what you must be going through. Would you like me to have them call Carl back—have him come back in for a bit?"

"No," she said quickly. She took a breath, realizing how such a quick response could be perceived. "I mean, Carl needs his rest. Please don't bother him. I'll be fine, really. I'm just a little jumpy right now. That's all. I'm sure with some time, I'll be just fine. If we could just answer all these questions a little later."

Paul nodded. "Of course." He flashed a quick smile at her and ushered the detective from the room.

* * *

Billy immediately rushed up to him.

"Paul," Billy said quickly, "Were you able to speak to Phyllis?"

Paul sighed. "Briefly, but like I said earlier, I really can't divulge information about the case to you."

"I know. I realize that, but I just wanted to know if maybe I could go in and see her. I mean, considering the circumstances I'd imagine she's pretty upset."

"You know—that actually would be good. She's pretty shaken and it might be good for her to have someone around that cares..someone she can talk to. She needs all the support she can get right now."

Billy paused a moment as he watched Paul walk away. There were no guards posted outside Phyllis' door. Paul made no mention of calling the station or of any pending legal action. In fact, nothing about the conversation indicated that Paul had any interest in Phyllis' confession at all. He opened the door to the hospital room, immediately alarmed by the sound of her soft sobs.

"Hey," he breathed, rushing over to her bedside and quickly enveloping her in his arms. "Hey, it's okay. What is it? What's wrong? What did Paul say?"

Phyllis shook her head frantically, the sobs still shaking her slight frame. "It's not what Paul said, Billy."

"Was it Carl? I saw him in here earlier." He paused for a moment, his mind going to the worst possible place. "Did he do something to you?" He straightened, moving to stand up, "So help me…I'll make sure he's dead for real this time."

"No, Billy, don't.." She clutched his arm tight in her hand as tears continued to stream down her face. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt his warm fingertips brush her cheeks dry. "Carl didn't do anything—at least not in the way you mean."

He sat back down on the bed, the feeling of dread he'd been feeling all day now becoming impossible to ignore. "Alright," he said quietly, "You're starting to scare me now, Phyllis. I just saw Paul outside and he didn't say anything about you admitting to anything. In fact, he didn't act like he'd just heard anything of the sort. He acted completely normal." His eyes met hers. "You didn't confess did you? You didn't tell Paul that you shot Carl?"

Another sob wracked her body and he wrapped his hands around hers, desperate to comfort her in the only way he knew how. "Just tell me what happened, Phyllis," he whispered.

"I didn't," she managed. "I couldn't."

"Thank God," he whispered. "So you've decided to tell the truth?" He knew this wouldn't be easy, but he'd be there for her and he truly believed she could get through this. If there was one thing he was absolutely certain of, it was that Carl would never get anywhere near her again as long as he was alive.

"No, Billy," she persisted, "You don't understand. I didn't tell Paul that I shot Carl, but I can't tell him the truth either."

"I don't understand, Phyllis. What do you mean?"

"No one can ever know the truth, Billy. No one." She took a breath as she looked into his eyes. There was so much love there…so much trust. She knew him well enough to know that he'd do anything for her—even if it meant putting his own life in jeopardy. She couldn't let that happen. "When Carl was in here earlier, he told me…he told me he knows." Her voice broke and she stopped, gathering every ounce of her strength—the courage it took to even say the words seemed overwhelming—"Carl remembers everything, Billy. He knows what I did. He knows what you did and he'll go to the police unless I do exactly what he wants."


	14. Chapter 14

"Okay," Billy sighed, pulling her closer against him. He hated seeing her so upset again. This was exactly why he hadn't wanted to bring her back here, but he couldn't say that to her. An 'I told you so' was the last thing she needed to hear. "First things first…you've got to calm down." His lips brushed against her forehead, a force of habit, and he hesitated for a moment, fearing he might have crossed the line.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her eyes drifting up to his, "I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "You don't have to be sorry." He wanted so much to help her, to take every bad thing away, but it was hard to feel anything besides the overwhelming rage that threatened to consume him. Every time she uttered an apology, every time she flinched at his touch, he knew Carl was the cause and he instantly envisioned his hands around his neck. He'd like to squeeze the sorry life out of him. But then he'd look down at her and realize his anger came second—a distant second—to her safety. "You don't ever have to be sorry," he repeated, "I just want you to be okay," he whispered. "I want to be sure you're both okay."

He glanced down at her hand which rested on her belly. Billy watched as her eyes followed his gaze. She looked up at him, her green eyes shining with tears. "The doctors did a sonogram," she said quietly, "They said everything's okay."

"That's good news, right?" He watched as a tear trailed down her cheek. "What? What is it?"

"Carl…what he said…"

Billy drew in a breath. "You said you couldn't tell the truth because of what Carl wants you to do." He let his eyes close for a moment, trying to mentally prepare himself for whatever words might come next. He knew Carl would try to intimidate her, but the look in her eyes was something much worse. "What did he say, Phyllis?"

"He wants me to go back home with him. He wants me to marry him and have this baby with him. He says he'll get help and it'll be better."

"Phyllis," he began, hoping against everything that she wasn't falling for his lies.

She shook her head. "I know," she sighed. "I know it won't, but I don't have a choice, Billy. I have to do what he wants. He knows everything. He'll go to the police. He's not bluffing."

His hands were on her face again, desperate to stop the tears as they streamed down her face. "Shhh," he soothed, "So, let him. Let him tell them what you did. We'll explain everything. I'll be right there with you. If this goes to court, we'll get you the best lawyers and any jury will understand. You were protecting yourself. You were protecting your child. You…"

"No," she said, her voice breaking as she looked up at him. The sight of his eyes staring back at her just solidified her belief. There was no way she could take the chance of losing him. "You don't understand, Billy. He's not going to tell the police anything about what I did." She reached for his hand, finding comfort in the simple pleasure of his touch. "He's going to tell them about you. He remembers it all. He knows that I called you. He knows that you were there. Your fingerprints are on the gun and he's managed to get surveillance footage of you at the door." She stopped, her words failing her as she looked at him.

"He can tell the police anything he wants," Billy said flatly. "You are not going back to that house with him. No way in hell."

"I can't lose you," she breathed.

The desperation in her eyes broke him, and he pulled her into his arms for a moment. Her body shook as she sobbed, completely overwhelmed. There were no perfect answers, but he had to do better than this. She couldn't go back to that house with that man and he couldn't go to jail and leave her alone with no one to protect her. "Hey," he whispered, rubbing gentle circles on her back, "You're not going to lose me. You hear me?"

He felt her take a deep breath and she leaned back, her eyes flashing at him with renewed determination. "You're right. I'm not because I'm going to do what Carl wants me to do. I'm going to stick to the story. I really think that since he knows I'm pregnant now, things will calm down. It got better before and you'll be around, right? I mean if I needed you…you would be there, right?"

"Phyllis." The look in her eyes was no longer determination, nor was it snark or fire—this was fear, granted she'd become an expert at disguising it and it might have worked on most people—it didn't work on him. "You don't really believe anything you're saying."

"He's not going to do anything to damage his reputation, Billy. How would it look if his pregnant wife showed up at a hospital all battered and bruised, right?" She leaned back against the pillows, shifting uncomfortably.

Billy sighed, her stubbornness proving difficult to overcome. "You okay? You're not having any pain are you?"

"No..it's just these pillows are really ridiculous, that's all. There like half an inch thick."

He smiled. "Tell you what, I'll go ask the nurse for another."

"You always take care of me," she whispered. "See, that's why I know things will be okay. I know you'll always be a call away. You'll always help me if I need it."

"Count on it," he whispered, as he stepped out into the hallway. Pulling the door closed behind him, he stood still for a moment, allowing his body to relax. He felt sick inside, the thought of her walking out this hospital with that man was absolutely horrific and he had to think of something to stop it. His eyes lifted as Paul walked by.

Every cell in his body stood on end. This wasn't his story to tell. Phyllis would indeed be furious, but he'd just promised her he would always help her if she needed it. She needed it now more than ever—even if she didn't fully realize it yet.

"Paul," Billy called out, "Wait up—I need to ask you something if you have a minute."

"Uh." Paul glanced at his watch. "Yeah, I've got a minute, Billy. What's the question?"

It was now or never. She'd be mad as hell at him for betraying her trust, but at least she'd be safe and that was much more important.

"It's uh.." He looked down at his feet, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Billy?"

"Hypothetically," he began, "What would happen if a woman shot a man out of self defense?" Billy looked up, meeting Paul's eyes. His reaction was immediate and they both knew the hypothetical nature of the question wasn't fooling anybody.

"Well," Paul said slowly, taking Billy's arm and pulling him into a more secluded corner of the hospital where they wouldn't be overheard. "It would all depend on the circumstances, but generally, we would try to claim imminent danger and she'd not have to serve any time or face charges." He looked at Billy again, his eyes trained heavy on his. "When you say self-defense?"

Billy swallowed, the words proving difficult to even say. The thought of Carl with his hands on her… "Abuse," he managed, his throat thick with emotion, "Physical abuse."

Paul drew in a breath. "Billy," he said quietly, "this hypothetical question…it's not hypothetical at all is it?"

"I promised her I'd keep her safe, Paul. Promise me you won't let him hurt her again. Please."

Paul sighed. "I need to talk to Phyllis."


	15. Chapter 15

"Paul, wait." Billy rushed up behind him, grabbing his arm before he made it to the door. "Before you go in…"

Paul stopped, looking back at Billy. Under normal circumstances, he'd have less patience. After all, he had a job to do and every minute he spent talking to Billy was a minute he needed to be spending asking questions, gathering evidence, and ensuring Carl Stevenson got exactly what was coming to him—but somehow he couldn't bring himself to be angered by the intrusion. He put himself in his shoes, imagining how it must feel to be in his place, so desperate to protect someone you love all the while knowing you have no real right to them. He sighed, finding himself more sympathetic towards him than anything else. "Yeah, what do you need?"

"She's terrified," Billy said softly. "Carl's already been in there. He's been threatening her about what he'll do if she doesn't tell you what he wants her to say….I just… I need you to understand how scared she is. Is there any way I could go in and maybe…be with her."

"Come on, Billy. You know better than that. I can't let you in there with her. All we need is someone to come up and say you influenced her answers or that you somehow coerced her. That could throw out her entire testimony or, at the very least, call her credibility into question. We can't have that."

"I just don't want her scared, Paul. I need her to know she's not alone. I swear…I won't say anything. I'll just sit there. I just want to be next to her."

Paul sighed, as he placed his hand on the door. He turned his eyes towards Billy, the expression on his face completely serious. "Not one word."

* * *

"Thank you," Phyllis breathed, leaning forward as she opened her eyes, "I think they make about four pillows out of what one of my regular ones from home must…" She stopped short as she saw Paul standing in the doorway. "Paul…" Her eyes darted across the room, finding Billy's apologetic face instantly. She glared at him. "What did you do?"

He didn't respond. He simply walked across the room, sliding the small chair over to the side of the bed and reaching for her hand. She jerked away from him, her eyes already shining with tears.

"I don't know what he told you," she said quickly, her eyes now on Paul, "but he's lying and he's doing it to try and protect me, but it doesn't change the fact that he's lying to you."

"Phyllis." Paul took a seat on the edge of the bed. From the beginning he'd known that something was off, but he didn't imagine it would be this, but now it all made sense. Carl fit the profile perfectly and their situation had been just a little too perfect. Looking at her now, he had absolutely no doubt of the validity of the claims. In fact her fervent denial only made him more certain.

Pity. She could hear it in his voice and she hated it. She always had. That was one of the many reasons she'd kept this entire thing quiet. She couldn't stand the idea of people looking at her as some kind of a victim, of people feeling sorry for her, of people trying to take care of her. Phyllis Summers took care of herself—she didn't need to be coddled. Only with Billy did she let her guard down. Only with him did she allow herself to be vulnerable, but now—everyone would see—everyone would see the scars, the dents in her armor. It was all too much. "I know what you're thinking," she spat, turning her head away from him, "and you're wrong."

"Am I?"

"Yes..as a matter of fact, you are. You couldn't be more wrong. Carl and I are happy. We are. We're happy and we're having a baby. Do you really think I'd bring a baby into a relationship like that?"

"I think you're scared. I think you're so afraid of what Carl might do next that you're willing to say anything right now to make it to the next moment. I think you've become so used to living in survival mode that it's become second nature. You do what you have to do to get by in the here and the now and you worry about the rest later. Sound familiar?"

It did sound familiar. Too familiar. She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes. One blink would send them cascading down her cheeks and she fought to keep the flood at bay. Her hands trembled and she finally relented and slid her palm over, grateful to find Billy's warm palm waiting for her. She looked over towards him. He nodded, still silent, but giving her hand a supportive squeeze.

"I need you to tell me the truth, Phyllis." Paul paused a moment, allowing his words to sink in. "If you don't it's going to happen again and again and again because it's not about anything you can do better. This is all about him and a problem that he has. You have to think about yourself right now and about that baby. Whatever he's threatened you with, whatever he said, you put all of that out of your head. Right now the only thing I need to hear from you is the truth. I'm gonna ask you some questions and you just need to tell me the truth. Can you do that?"

She nodded slowly, hearing Billy's deep sigh of relief from beside her.

"Good," Paul smiled gently. "Do you know what happened the night of the shooting?"

"Yes." She said quietly.

"Do you know who shot Carl Stevenson?"

"Yes," she responded.

Paul looked over at Billy who closed his eyes, fearing she might falter. "Can you tell me who it was?"

"I did," she managed, her voice breaking as a sob escaped her throat. "I shot him."

"Okay," Paul whispered, glancing over at Billy, who reached up to touch her face. It was killing him to sit by silently as she recounted the most horrific night of her life. He wanted so much to tell her how proud he was of her, how much he loved her, to whisper words of comfort, to soothe her, to do something, anything to take the pain away, but instead he simply had to sit there and watch her suffer.

"I just have a few more questions," Paul replied. "Why did you shoot Carl?"

"Because he was going to hurt me," she whispered, her words barely audible.

Paul nodded, leaning in a bit closer to hear her better. "He was going to hurt you? Physically?"

Phyllis nodded, glancing up at him briefly, the shame in the admission prominently displayed on her face. "Yes," she breathed.

"I see. I just need to ask you one more question, Phyllis and I need you to be very clear about your answer." He reached out, placing his hand on her arm. "Was this an abusive relationship? Was Carl Stevenson abusive to you?"

"Yes. Yes he was."

* * *

Paul stepped out of the room. There were certain aspects of police work that one never got used to. He never got used to telling family members their loved ones wouldn't be coming home. He never got used to seeing young people lose their lives, and he never got used to the domestic violence calls which were far too prevalent these days. There was something even more disturbing when it was someone you knew.

Stitch emerged from one of the ER bays and Paul rushed over to stop him.

"Paul—I'm glad you made it. Have you had a chance to speak to Phyllis yet?"

"Actually I did," Paul nodded, "And that's what I needed to talk to you about. During your exam, did you take note of any abrasions, bruises, things like that?"

Stitch narrowed his eyes. "I'm sure they did. I can check the chart to see how specific everything was." He paused. "Why?"

"I'd appreciate it if you'd do that for me. I'm also going to need you to provide a breakdown with any bruising and abrasions with your professional opinion regarding how old the injuries are and what could have lead to the type of bruising…."

"I'll be glad to do all of that for you, but…" Stitch stepped a little closer, lowering his voice. "Come on, Paul. Level with me. What's all this about?"

"Is Carl Stevenson well enough to be released?"

"Yeah, he is," Stitch replied, "But he's requested to stay until Phyllis is released. I was going to keep him here for observation unless there's a reason I shouldn't."

"I'm going to be taking him in. He's coming down to the station with me pending domestic abuse charges."

* * *

"It's all going to be okay." He held her tighter against him as he curled up beside her. His lips pressed softly against her ear whispering the words over and over as he gently rocked her back and forth.

She trembled in his arms. "What if it isn't, Billy? He's going to be so angry. There's no telling what he's going to do."

"He's not going to do anything because I'm not going to let you out of my sight." He shifted, his eyes looking directly into hers. "I promise you that. He is not going to come anywhere near you."

"It's not just me I'm worried about." Her eyes were full of concern as she looked up at him. "What if he does something to you?"

"Shhhh," He shook his head, gently kissing her cheek before pulling her against him again. "You don't worry about me. That's the last thing you need to be thinking about. I want you to rest. You just get all of this out of your mind right now."

"I can't…Something horrible is gonna happen, Billy. I can feel it."

"No. You've had enough horrible for a lifetime," he whispered. "Only good now…I'm going to see to it."


	16. Chapter 16

She stared into the mirror, her hands trembling as she smoothed her hair down again. She forced a weak smile as she saw him walk up behind her, his gentle hands touching her shoulder.

"You sure there isn't anything I can get you?" he said softly, stepping off to the side and allowing his hand to drop to the small of her back. "You haven't eaten anything this morning."

"I know. I just can't…I feel like my throat is closing up and I couldn't eat anything now even if I tried."

"Maybe just some juice then…some milk? I just think it would be good to have something on your stomach before we go…" He saw the look on her face, the reluctance already setting in, "Phyllis."

She flinched, like a child being scolded and turned away.

"Don't. Hey, don't do that," he softened his tone, gently bringing her back towards him. "I didn't mean it to come out like that. I'm sorry. I can't imagine how hard this must be for you, but you know how important it is that you go in and talk to Christine, right? Your testimony will help determine the charges."

Phyllis shook her head, the doubts that had been plaguing her mind all morning now becoming all the more real. It was easier to push them out of her mind when the deposition was just a concept, but now—when she was facing the actual event, when she was actually preparing to get into the car and drive to the station. "Will he be there?"

She heard the tremble in her own voice as she spoke and it infuriated her. The person she was, at least who she used to be, would never cower in fear to anyone and yet here she was, afraid to tell the truth for fear of retaliation. When had she become that person?

"I hope not." It was the truth, but certainly not the whole truth. She couldn't know about the thoughts that ran through his mind on an almost continual basis—how much he wanted to hurt that man, how much he wanted to make him pay for what he'd done to her, for what he was continuing to do to her. She couldn't know that he wasn't entirely sure how he'd react if he was forced to sit in the same room with him as Phyllis explained in detail all the ways in which she'd been brutalized by him. Phyllis didn't need anything else to worry about.

Billy took a breath, looking into her eyes and still finding fear and reluctance there. "I don't if Carl will be there," he repeated, reaching out and taking her hand, "but I can promise you that I'll be there….for whatever it's worth. I'll be right there beside you."

He smiled as he felt her weakly squeeze his hand in response. She nodded as she began to move towards the door. "It's worth a lot," she whispered.

* * *

"Just take a couple deep breaths," he whispered, standing in front of her as Christine readied the files in the conference room. "Remember what I told you. All you have to do is tell the truth. You don't have to worry about me. You don't have to worry about Carl. You don't have to worry about anything else. You just need to tell the truth."

Phyllis nodded, stiffening as she heard her name. "I don't think I can do this," she whispered, her body beginning to tremble.

He shook his head. "Yes you can," he said quietly, stroking her face. "You can do this." He paused for a moment, waiting until he was sure she was okay. "Now, Christine said I couldn't sit at the table with you, but I'll be in the room, just over by the window. Even though I can't hold your hand or wrap my arms around you, I'll be right here." He placed his hand over her heart, leaving it there for a little longer than necessary, until he felt her hand cover it.

"You can do this," he whispered again, kissing her forehead softly before letting her go and watching her walk into the room.

* * *

Billy closed his eyes, letting the breath leave his body slowly as he listened to Christine ask each painstaking question.

"Tell me about the first incidence of abuse you can remember, Ms. Summers."

Phyllis hesitated. She'd told Billy about the abuse in generalities, but never specifics. She'd seen the look of horror on his face every time she'd mentioned the idea of it and she wasn't certain he'd be able to sit through a recounting of some of the most horrific moments of her life. "Do you really need to know that?" she said quietly.

"If you want us to charge and convict, we absolutely need to know," Christine replied, making a note on the file in front of her. "We need to establish a time line and a history of violence. I have to make a recommendation regarding the severity of the abuse and the degree to which I believe you were in imminent danger, so I'm going to need you to work with me here."

"Alright. The first time it happened I guess…well, it started off with little things. Carl was never the type that liked me to have a lot of friends that he wasn't familiar with. He was sort of possessive and at first I thought it was sweet in a weird sort of way. He was jealous and that was kind of nice, but then it became a little more than that. He always wanted me to call him. I had to call him at lunch and when I left the office. He wanted me to call if I made a stop on my way home and if I didn't he'd get furious."

Christine nodded. "And by furious, what do you mean?"

"At first just yelling…throwing things, storming out..that type of stuff. Then it got a little worse, he'd push past me while we were arguing, not in a way that could be called directly hitting me, but like I was in his way and he didn't care enough to avoid me. That's when I really started to notice a change in his behavior. That's when the drinking started too."

"And the drinking—did that eventually lead to the physical abuse?"

"Yes. The first night he actually left a mark on me was a night I came home late from work and he'd been home for an hour or so waiting. He'd been drinking and just sitting there and he started screaming. In his mind I was always doing something I shouldn't be doing. He never trusted me. We started arguing and I got in his face. I shouldn't have done that. I know that now, but he slammed me against the wall and grabbed my face in his hands. I'm not even sure he realized how hard he was holding me, but I had bruises the next morning."

"And what was his reaction to that?" Christine asked.

"He apologized and promised to do better..and he did for a few days. It went on like that for a while. It would get worse. Something would happen, he'd apologize and it would get better. Eventually I'd had enough and I told him I'd leave and he promised he'd get therapy. He did…and it worked. I really thought it might be okay then, but it wasn't. It was never really better, I guess. It was just postponing the inevitable."

"On the night of the shooting, you stated that you and Mr. Stevenson had plans to go out to dinner, is that correct?"

Phyllis drew in a shaky breath. "Not really. I mean, we didn't have plans. I asked him to go pick up dinner because I wanted him to leave the house. I had already packed some of my things and I was ready to leave. I was trying to get him out of the house so that I could leave without incident. That's all."

Christine nodded, "And he suggested the two of you go out?"

"Yes. He wanted us to go out and celebrate."

"Because the two of you had just found out that you were going to have a child. Is that correct?"

Phyllis felt her eyes burn at the thought. "Yes," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Summers, you're going to need to speak up so that the recorder can hear you clearly," Christine replied curtly.

"Yes," Phyllis replied, her voice louder this time. "I had taken a home test earlier that day. He found the test."

Christine looked up, surprised, "Found the test? So, you weren't planning on giving him the information?"

"No. I wasn't. My first priority was getting out of the house safely. I knew the abuse would continue and I couldn't let that happen knowing I had an innocent child to think about. That's why I was packing. That's why I was planning to leave that night."

"Tell me about the gun, Ms. Summers."

"What about the gun?" Phyllis looked up confused.

"Your prints were on the gun in addition to Mr. Stevenson's and some other partial prints that are currently unidentified. Can you explain that?"

"I was holding the gun. I shot him. I've already admitted to that."

"I understand that," Christine replied, "but at what point did you decide to shoot Mr. Stevenson?"

Phyllis drew in a quick breath. "It was never a decision," she said quickly. "I didn't plan to shoot him. I was afraid for my life. I knew he was going to hurt me. I had to stop him."

"Did Mr. Stevenson threaten you with the gun that night?"

"No. Carl didn't have the gun." The words fell from her lips before she had a chance to think. She looked over at Billy who nodded supportively. She took a breath. "I took the gun when I was packing. I was afraid if Carl caught me leaving I might need it for protection, but I never intended to hurt him. I never wanted this to happen."

* * *

Billy opened the door, holding it open for her walk inside.

"You didn't need to do this," Phyllis said quietly. "I could have gotten a room at the club. It would have been fine." She walked over to the couch, slowly removing her jacket and tossing it across the arm. He watched her as she sat down, her hands still slightly trembling.

"It wouldn't have been fine with me," he whispered, taking a seat beside her and reaching for her hand. "I promised you I'd be here for you and that's exactly what I plan to do." He looked at her. Her eyes were distant, as if she were deep in thought. "You were quiet on the drive over. What are you thinking so hard about?"

She'd been fighting the tears since they'd left the station and now, in one simple question, he'd managed to trigger the onslaught. In seconds she felt his arms wrapping around her and she found herself crying into his chest. "Christine hates me, Billy. She always has. She always will. What if she doesn't believe anything I said. What if she uses this as some perfect opportunity to get back at me for all the horrible things I've done to her in the past?"

"Christine wouldn't do that," he said softly, still holding tightly on to her. "This is too important. She might have her issues with you, but she's not going to use a case this important to settle any old scores the two of you might have."

"How can you be so sure?"

He smiled at her. "Because you don't deserve any more heartache and because the only thing that's going to happen today is that you're going to go upstairs and get some rest while I go out and get some groceries."

"Billy," she protested.

"At no point in that sentence did I give you any options, Ms. Summers," he grinned. "That was a direct order. Carl is in jail. He can't hurt you. You are completely safe and sound." He reached up to brush the hair from her face, grateful to see a small smile creep across her face in response. "There is one thing I need to ask though."

"Really? What's that?"

"Any cravings? Requests?"

"Well…" He chuckled softly as her eyes lit up a bit. "You know I am a sucker for those brownies."

"Let's see if I remember this right," he teased, "Triple chocolate frosted brownies."

She nodded. He gently pulled her to her feet. "You've got yourself a deal. You go upstairs and take a nap and when you wake up I'll be back with groceries and brownies."

Phyllis nodded and headed up the stairs slowly. "Billy," she said stopping in the middle of the stairs, and turning around to look at him as she stood in the doorway. "I don't know what I would do without you."

He grinned at her, her words meaning more to him than she'd ever know. "Well, don't worry because I'm not ever going to let you find out."


	17. Chapter 17

Billy glanced down at the clock on his phone as he pulled into Crimson Lights. He hated being gone this long, but he was grateful Phyllis hadn't called. Hopefully this meant she was getting some much needed rest. Even when he was next to her at the hospital, he could tell she slept restlessly and never completely let down her guard. It was as if she expected Carl to sense when she'd relaxed and take it as an opportunity to pounce. Just knowing he was behind bars gave her enough peace to let her guard down, even if it was just for today.

He stepped up to the corner, smiling politely at the young girl as he placed his order.

"Billy?" Christine stepped up behind him, waiting until he turned around to face her to continue. "I'm so glad I ran into you," she breathed. "I was just stopping by here to get a cup of coffee before heading over to your place. I've been trying to reach Phyllis for the last few hours but she hadn't been answering her phone. I was hoping maybe she was with you."

"She's at my place actually…getting some rest. She's had a rough few days as I'm sure you can understand." He paused, more than a little frustrated with the situation. The way Christine had handled the situation, though professional, hadn't sat well with him. He knew she and Phyllis had a history and, from what little Phyllis had told him, it wasn't exactly a pleasant one, but Christine had done nothing to make the situation any easier for Phyllis. "Look, surely you can wait until tomorrow to ask her any follow up questions, right? I mean she's exhausted and I'd just like to get home, cook her a nice meal, and let her have one night where she doesn't have to dwell on this."

"I don't think you understand." She looked up at him, sensing the conversation was about to take a palpable turn. "I wasn't calling Phyllis to set up any follow up questions. I wanted to let her know about the status of the charges and about Carl's bond."

"Carl's what?" He pulled out a bar stool across from him and gestured for her to sit down. "Are you trying to tell me that a judge would grant that man bond after what he did? I thought felony charges almost guaranteed that bond wouldn't happen."

"Well a felony might, but…" She stopped, looking up at him.

Billy took a deep breath, willing himself to stay calm. "After everything she told you in that room, you recommended misdemeanor charges for him?"

"Billy," Christine countered, "There was nothing to indicate imminent danger. We have to do this by the book."

"Damn it!" He slammed his hand on the counter, glancing over at the table next to him and whispering an apology. He leaned closer to her, his hushed words betraying his anger. "Are you out of your mind? " He shook his head as he remembered Phyllis' words. "She was right," he sighed. "She was afraid you would do this and I told her, I promised her that you wouldn't allow your personal feelings about her to influence your job."

"That's not fair. I made a professional decision. Phyllis was the one who had initial possession of the weapon. There was nothing on that night to indicate that there was any more of a threat than there had been any of the other nights that she hadn't made the choice to leave."

"So you choice forget about the fact that he was beating the hell out of her?" His voice was raising again and he forced himself to sit down.

"No one is forgetting about anything, Billy. He'll face the charges. There will consequences."

"How much jail time?" That was the only thing he could focus on. Carl's incarceration was the only thing that would bring Phyllis any sort of peace. No matter how many promises he made her, no matter where they went, she would always fear the day he found her.

"Honestly," she sighed, "probably none, but there will be fines and community service and mandatory counseling."

Billy jumped to his feet. "Wait a minute…so you're telling me they're going to let him out? When?"

"The judge has already set bond," Christine said calmly. "He can leave as soon as he can pay it." She jumped as Billy grabbed the bag off the counter and raced towards the door. "Billy. Billy, wait." She grabbed his arm. "There's a mandatory 72 hour no contact order. Carl can't go near her without facing additional charges. She'll be fine."

He whirled around, his eyes glaring at her. "You think he gives a damn about that? He beat her, Christine. He left bruises on her. When he knew she was pregnant he backed her into a corner, he put his hands on her, he threatened her. You think that kind of man is going to pay any attention to a court order?" He ran his hand over his face, wiping the tears from his eyes before they had a chance to fall. "You know what..I just can't believe you did this. I trusted you to do the right thing and I promised her that she didn't need to worry—that she didn't need to be afraid because everything would work out. You're gonna make a liar out of me and you're need to get the last word may have cost the woman I love her life."

"Billy…" She tried to call out again, but the word faded in her throat as her voice broke. With trembling hands, she grabbed her phone closing her eyes in grateful prayer when she heard the voice on the other end.

"Where are you?" she said breathlessly, pausing for the answer. "Good, I need you to meet at Crimson Lights as soon as possible. I'll be waiting."

* * *

"Come on, Phyllis…pick up…Please pick up." This was the last thing he wanted to do, but he needed to hear her voice. He had to know she was okay and, even if he didn't tell her why he was calling, hearing her voice would be enough of a comfort to get him home with his sanity. But instead of her voice, he got the incessant ring of the phone. When he called her cell, he was eventually sent to voicemail. In his head he tried to reason that she was napping, just like he'd asked her to, but in his heart he could feel it…something was terribly wrong.


	18. Chapter 18

He jerked the wheel hard as he pulled into the driveway. The short drive home had seemed unbearably long today. Billy pulled the keys from the ignition and ran full speed towards the door. The groceries didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Just Phyllis. He had to make sure she was.

Pushing open the door with unnecessary force, he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room, half hoping to see her sitting on the couch—waiting for him. His heart fell when she was nowhere to be seen. "Phyllis?" His head turned quickly as the sound of a loud noise upstairs. He took the stairs two at a time, his heart pounding the entire time, his stomach in knows as if somehow he already knew what he'd see.

"Billy-Don't!" she screamed as soon as he reached the doorway. "Just go, okay? Just go." She stood, her eyes wide in fear as Carl held her still, his arm wrapped around her neck, a gun pressed firmly to the side of her neck. "Please.." Her voice shook as she looked at him. She was desperate now. "You have to go, Billy. He'll kill you."

"I'm not leaving." He looked at her, staring deep into her eyes for a moment before turning his gaze on him. He drew in a breath. "Carl, you don't want to do this. You're scaring her to death. She's pregnant for God's sakes. She's carrying your child. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

Carl laughed as he looked down at her. "So it's him, huh? He's the one you been whoring around with? This is the guy? You know, I find it very interesting, darling—You're so busy telling him to get out when you're the one with the gun pointed at you. You seem to have your priorities just a little bit confused."

"Carl..please stop..Billy doesn't have anything to do with this. He's not why you're angry. There's no reason to hurt him. He can go and then we can do what you planned."

Billy felt his muscles tighten as he watched her. She was terrified and it took everything in him to keep from rushing over to her, but the gun was too close. It was too risky.

"You two think I'm that damn stupid?" He moved, pressing her against the wall, using his arm to press against her neck, watching as she struggled to breathe.

"Carl! Carl! Let her go!" Billy watched in horror as she writhed. "Damn it, Carl! You're going to kill her!"

The words were like a trigger and Carl jerked her back against him, turning towards Billy. "Kill her?" He leaned in, kissing her forehead hard and stroking her head, "I would never kill her…which, let's face it, is more than she can say…Isn't that right, honey? She shot me and left me for dead..in my own house."

Phyllis was silent.

"You know what? I think I've had just about enough of this," he sneered. "Let's go." He slammed the gun into her back, forcing her to walk out of the room.

"What are you doing?" Billy asked, desperate to figure out some way to help her..something, anything to keep all of them safe.

"You see, Romeo," Carl sighed as he reached the bottom of the stairwell. "There's this whole thing in this state about a 72 hour no contact order and if they find out you violate it, you apparently end up back in jail or some shit like that…I don't know. Anyway…so we can't be together here…but we could be together someplace else."

He heard Phyllis take a shaky breath as she looked up at him. Carl noticed as well and Billy watched in horror as he smiled down at her. "I know," he whispered, "I'm excited too..a fresh new start, a new place, new people…no one knows us."

He pulled her hair hard and she gasped. "See, it seems someone around here has been spreading nasty rumors about me and I'm not really keen to stick around seeing as how everyone thinks I'm some kind of monster now, but we'll go somewhere brand new." His face curved into a sickening smile as he ran the gun against her skin. "We'll find a new place, get new jobs, buy a new house. We'll make sure it has a big back yard where the little one can play."

Carl ran his hand across her stomach, letting it rest there as he stared into her eyes. "I'm going to teach him or her everything I know," he whispered.

It was as if something snapped inside her and she felt the rage she'd been burying for months reach a boiling point. She slapped his hand away from her. "You will never go anywhere near my baby," she spat.

His reaction was instantaneous. Pure fury flashed in his eyes and before she could even brace herself, his hand was flying in the air and landing hard against her face. She tasted the blood as it hit her teeth and she felt tears sting her eyes. "Don't you ever hit me again, you bitch!"

"Phyllis—move!" She heard the words but didn't have time to respond when she saw Billy jumping towards them. She screamed as she watched Carl point the gun and the entire room now seemed to spin in slow motion as she heard the sound of the shot and watched Billy crumple to the floor.

"Billy!" she screamed, falling to her knees and crawling across the hardwood towards him. "Billy, Billy…" She turned around, looking for Carl who now stood directly behind her, the gun pointed at both of them.

"Carl," she whispered. "Please…Please don't."

"Who are you pleading for?"

"What?" she managed, her voice shaking in terror.

"You want me to stop…you keep asking me not to do this….so are you asking me not to kill him…" He paused, turning a bit and pointing the gun towards her, "or not to kill you?"

She swallowed hard as the gravity of the situation hit. "I don't understand…"

"Let me break it down for you," he hissed. "I'll let you walk out of here..free and clear..healthy as a horse—you and that bastard kid of yours, but you don't do it with him. He's my…well, we'll call him a consolation prize." He twirled the gun in his hand. "Or, I get my payback in the Old Testament way—an eye for an eye…and I put a bullet in you. You pick."

"Phyllis—you go," Billy struggled to sit up, the blood now spreading through the visible wound in his thigh. "You get out of here."

"No…No…I'm not leaving you. You wouldn't leave me and I'm not leaving you." She leaned down, wrapping her arms around him as he struggled to lean back against the couch. She looked up at Carl. "If you want to shoot someone—you're gonna have to shoot us both." She closed her eyes tight as she held on to Billy, the feeling of his heart pounding against hers the only source of comfort she had. If this was her last moment, at least she'd spend it in the place she was the happiest.

She winced as she heard the shot and waited for the pain to begin.


	19. Chapter 19

She kept her eyes closed, still bracing for the pain, but there was none. Her arms wrapped around tighter around him, suddenly terrified Carl had shot him instead, but she felt him take a shaky breath and heard him whisper her name.

"Phyllis."

Her eyes opened slowly, her head lifting from his chest as she turned hesitantly to follow his gaze. Christine stood in the doorway, the phone pressed to her ear. She saw Paul kneeling beside Carl's body, his gun still drawn. "He's gone," Paul said succinctly, before turning his attention to the two of them.

"An ambulance in on the way," he said softly, his eyes scanning the scene. "You two alright?"

"He's not okay." The intensity of the moment was all hitting her, right here, right now and she suddenly felt as if someone were sitting on her chest. She tried to take a deep breath, but found it impossible. Her heart pounded inside her chest as if pure adrenaline were coursing through her veins.

"I'm okay," Billy whispered, his arm wrapping around her as he best he could. "I'm fine." He held her tighter. "What were you thinking," he whispered. "I told you to run…why would you stay here when he gave you a chance to leave?"

"He could have killed you," she managed through jagged breaths. "I could have lost you…and I couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle it if I lost you."

"Shhhh." He struggled to sit up, wincing in pain, and instead gently eased her down beside him. "All I need is you to relax here with me, okay?" He breathed slowly, waiting until her breaths matched his. Gently he lifted her chin until he could look into her eyes, "See," he said softly, "Isn't that better? We always were in sync."

* * *

"Ungh," he groaned, as he attempted to shift a bit in the bed.

Phyllis' warm hands were on his face in an instant. "You okay?" she whispered, concern heavy in her voice.

"Yeah," he smiled. "I just didn't have a bullet hole in my leg in the dream." He brought his hand up to her face, pausing for a moment to just look at her. "Besides, I should be asking you that question. You're the one that's been through hell. How are you?" She started to speak, and he placed his fingers lightly on her lips, widening his eyes a bit as he stared at her. "How are you _really_?"

"Better now that you're awake." She shook her head, still trying to wrap her mind around everything that had happened. She knew exactly what he meant about things being different in dreams. Last night, as she'd slept beside him the hospital room, she'd dreamed about the events of the past few days. When she'd opened her eyes, her first thought had been that she'd been having a horrible nightmare, but it wasn't a nightmare—it had all been real. It had all happened. "It's over now, isn't it? It's really over?"

Billy brought his hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "Yeah," he whispered, "It is. Carl can't hurt us or anyone else…not anymore."

Phyllis nodded, hesitantly, glancing away for a moment.

"What is it?" Billy asked, expertly noticing her shift in focus.

"Nothing. It's nothing. I'm just tired. That's all."

"Phyllis," Billy sighed, shaking his head. "You know, I know you better than that." His eyes flickered with concern for a moment. "Are you okay? Is it the baby?"

She closed her eyes.

Billy sat up straight, his heart pounding. "What? What's wrong?" He hadn't even considered what all this stress might be doing to her.

She touched his arm softly. "No," she whispered, "it's nothing like that. The baby's fine…I just…I was just thinking about the baby"

"What about the baby?"

"It's just this baby is a part of him and what if…."

He nodded. She didn't have to say the words. "You listen to me." His words stopped until she looked up at him. "This baby is also a part of you and he or she is gonna be raised in a home that's filled with love and as long as a child has that, there's no room for anything else."

Phyllis took a breath, trying to keep from falling apart. She'd done that enough in the past few days. Managing a smile, she sighed, "How is it that you always know exactly what to say to make me feel better?"

Billy ran his fingers through her hair. "It's a gift I suppose, but I'm grateful. That's all I ever want to do. I just want to make things better for you. I just want to make you happy."

Her breath left her body in a half laugh, half sigh. "You do. You always have. I never would have made it through this without you. You kept me safe, just like you promised you would. "

"Well, I take my promises very seriously."

Phyllis smiled. "You uh..you said something the other day."

"Did I? I talk a lot, you know? You might need to be a little more specific."

She shook her head, leaning back at bit. "You know what? Never mind. It's okay. We can talk about this later when you've had some time to rest."

"Or we could talk about it now since we're both here and I'm not tired." Billy scooted closer to her as he flashed her a disarming grin.

"Well," she sighed, her heart already speeding up, "what you said about the…about the baby…"

"Oh," he said softly.

She closed her eyes quickly, not wanting to see the look in his eyes as he had to back away. She could hear his hesitation and she understood. He was simply trying to get her through. She'd said things in the heat of the moment more than once. "I don't expect you to go through with any of it," she said quickly, "I know you were just trying to get me through…it's okay."

The tears were quickly building and she struggled to keep them inside. The last thing she wanted was to make him feel guilty.

"Hey, no…Phyllis, stop."

"Sorry," she smiled, "I talk a lot too, you know. I don't know if you've noticed."

"I notice everything about you," he whispered, "but that's not my point. What I said to you about the baby—about wanting to raise the baby with you, about wanting to treat him or her as if they were my own—Phyllis—I meant every word I said to you. I still want that. I still want a life with you. I want a family with you—however it happens."

He wiped the tears that now fell down her cheeks without abandon. "Even if the baby isn't yours?" she asked, her voice shaky with emotion?

"I love you," he whispered, reaching out and taking her hand. "I love everything about you. This baby is a part of you."

"I don't know what to say. I never imagined I'd be here." She stopped for a moment. "Well, that's a lie. I used to dream that this would happen…that somehow, by some miracle, things would work out and we'd get the chance to have the life we wanted so badly."

Billy looked at her, a bit stunned. "I didn't know you still thought about it, about us."

"Of course I did." She sat still for a moment, realizing that through it all, she wasn't certain she'd said the actual words, "I love you," she whispered.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the words soak in. Slowly he shifted his body, lifting up the covers, "Come here," he whispered.

"What about your leg?"

"Forget about the leg. It'll be fine. I just want to hold onto you. I want to make sure you don't slip away again."

She smiled as she slipped into bed, easily sliding next to him and falling into the comfort of his arms. "You don't have to worry," she whispered, "This is right where I want to be."


	20. Chapter 20

Phyllis opened her eyes, smiling as she watched Billy open the door wider so the nurse could wheel the bassinet into the room.

"She's all yours now," she smiled, pushing her beside Phyllis' bed, "Let us know if you need anything."

Phyllis smiled as she watched her leave the room. Her eyes traveled over to Billy. "I think she gets more beautiful every time I see her," she whispered, reaching inside to touch the baby's tiny arm.

"Of course she does…just like her Mama." Hearing the baby fuss a bit, he reached in and easily lifted her up, placing her in Phyllis' arms and moving the bassinet off to the side. He eased onto the side of the bed beside them, wrapping his arm around her and gently placing a kiss on her forehead. Billy watched them for a moment as Phyllis stared at the baby's tiny face, her hand slowly stroking her tiny cheek.

She sighed, a slight shake in her breath and she felt Billy move beside her, his eyes expertly searching her face.

"You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine…it's just hormones, you know…"

"Uh huh," he whispered, pulling her tighter against his chest…"And…"

She shook her head, continually amazed at how well he knew her…"And just this, watching you with her, and thinking…wishing…" She stopped. This was crazy. She had everything she'd ever wanted, so why was she spending her time wishing about what could never be. "I just wish she was yours," she whispered.

Billy sat up, facing her, his warm hands touching her face. "You listen to me," he whispered, "This beautiful little girl here…she's my daughter in every way that counts, okay? I've been here since the beginning, right?"

"Yeah, right, you have, but Billy… It doesn't change the fact that she's…"

"She knows my voice," he continued. "And she's gonna know more. She's gonna know the little songs I use to sing her to sleep and she's gonna know the special way I make pancakes in the morning. I'll teach her to ride bikes and motorcycles."

He laughed softly as he saw Phyllis' eyes flash at him. "You will not," she said softly, a smile now on her face.

"Alright," he relented, "Maybe no motorcycles, but the point is I'm going to be this little girls Daddy in all the ways that matter. She's gonna know just how much I love her and she's gonna know how much I love her mother. She'll know that I wanted her and that I chose to be in her life and more importantly than any of that, she'll know just how much I respect and admire her amazing, strong, beautiful mother."

She struggled to smile at him through the tears as she leaned in to kiss him quickly. As she pulled back, she managed a weak laugh as she glanced down at the baby whose eyes were now open. "You realize our daughter is going to think adults just cry all the time, right? That's all she's ever seen me do."

Billy smiled. "Happy tears though, right? As long as they're happy tears." He looked at the two of them for a moment—at the culmination of everything he'd ever dreamed of having. "Hold on for a second," he whispered.

He stood, walking across the room to the small closet in the corner. He opened the door, his hands trembling a bit as he reached for his jacket and reached into the pocket. Holding the box in his hand, he took a deep breath. Before, he'd convinced himself to wait—thinking that it would be better to let them get home, get settled, but now…there was no reason. He was happy and he'd never been more sure of anything in his life.

Slowly he closed his hand around the velvet box, walking back to the bed, his eyes trained on hers. He sat, placing the box on the bed in front of him, smiling shyly at her. "Since you're already crying," he whispered.

"What's this?" Phyllis asked, her heart racing as she tried not to jump to conclusions.

"Well," he smiled, "I'm given to understand that tradition dictates that I'm supposed to give you a push present of some sort and I thought this might suffice." He picked up the box, opening it slowly and watching her reaction as she looked at the ring.

"Billy," she breathed, "It's beautiful."

He gently pulled the round cut diamond ring from the box. "I went back and forth about what I wanted to get. I thought about getting something non-traditional, because let's face it, we're not exactly the most traditional people in the world, but then I thought—maybe it'll be nice to have some aspect of our relationship be traditional." He stopped, taking a breath. His eyes fell on hers again, noticing she was simply staring down at the ring. "You don't like it?" he asked, his heart falling.

"No," she whispered quickly, "I love it…it's beautiful. It's a beautiful ring. I just…I want to make sure you're not doing this because…" She glanced down at the baby in her arms. "You know you don't have to do this, Billy."

"Oh, you.." He sighed out loud, placing one hand on either side of her face. "You really don't get it, do you? I want to be with you and I'd want to be with you with or without the baby, but now I want to be with both of you. I want us to be a family."

"And I believe you," she said quietly, "It's just..before this, before you found out about me and Carl, you didn't say anything to make me believe…I…"

He closed his eyes. "I thought you were happy." His eyes raised to meet hers again. "I honestly believed that you were happy and I wanted that for you. I loved you enough to want your happiness more than I wanted my own and if that meant you were happy with someone else—then that's what I wanted for you. The thing I wished more than anything else was that you would be happy."

She felt her throat tighten. "Well Billy Abbott, I've got good news for you…I'm happy now, happier than I've ever been."

"And that makes me happy," he grinned, "But you haven't answered my question…" He lifted the ring in his hand again.

"It's a little late for you to make an honest woman out of me," she giggled.

"Honest women are completely overrated. I just want you—the good and the bad, the crazy and the passionate, the strong and the gentle—I want all of you.."

Tears streamed down her face as she smiled up at him.

"So.." He took in a deep breath, trying to keep from crying himself, "You gonna make me keep this up, or are you gonna give me the answer that I want."

She nodded happily, managing a weak "Yes," in the midst of her tears. Her hand trembled as he placed the ring on her finger. "Oh," he said quickly, "I forgot, there is one condition." He watched as he saw a flicker of concern in her eyes.

"What?" she breathed.

"Don't you ever…ever change. I love you just the way you are."

Phyllis shook her head as she felt him curl up beside her, his arms wrapping around her again. She'd never believed much in happy endings, never invested much in fairy tales, but this time—she might have finally found her prince.


End file.
